First Love
by carthagegirl
Summary: After PONR, Erik runs away with Christine instead of taking her to his lair. Will Raoul be able to find her, or will she live out her days with the Phantom? RC Rated for later chaps.
1. Past the Point of No Return

A/N: AHHHH! I've been having problems with my computer lately. Hopefully it works this time. I'm reposting this, but with a few changes. When I started it I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing or where I was going with it. Now that it's done I decided to go back and fix up the first few chapters. I hope you enjoy it. Don't forget to review!

_First Love_

I ne'er was struck before that hour  
With love so sudden and so sweet.  
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower  
And stole my heart away complete. My face turned pale, a deadly pale.  
My legs refused to walk away,  
And when she looked what could I ail  
My life and all seemed turned to clay. And then my blood rushed to my face  
And took my eyesight quite away.  
The trees and bushes round the place  
Seemed midnight at noonday. I could not see a single thing,  
Words from my eyes did start.  
They spoke as chords do from the string,  
And blood burnt round my heart. Are flowers the winter's choice  
Is love's bed always snow  
She seemed to hear my silent voice  
Not love appeals to know. I never saw so sweet a face  
As that I stood before.  
My heart has left its dwelling place  
And can return no more.

John Clare

_We've passed the point of no return…_

All the words that man had ever invented were useless at that moment. None of them could describe the emotions that Erik felt hearing Christine sing his song of love. He felt as though his whole life, all the pain and suffering, had been leading him to this. His life of loneliness was finally over. Erik had found someone to love him unconditionally.

When he had written Don Juan Triumphant, he had imagined the scene which was now playing out before him. He hadn't expected Christine to give herself over to him so quickly and willingly. But here she was in front of him, displaying her love for him to the entire opera house. And that damned Vicomte. Now he would see who Christine truly loved. The knife which had been plunged into Erik's heart had now turned itself on Raoul.

Raoul watched in horror as that creature moved his hands over the body his fiancée. He knew it was all an act, that Christine was only doing what he had asked of her. But he still felt a stab of jealousy as he watched them in a passionate embrace. He told himself that it would all be over soon. Then he and Christine could be married and forget all the pain they had suffered at the hands of this man. He closed his eyes, bringing back the memory of that night on the rooftop when she had promised to be his. _Say the word and I will follow you_. Raoul relaxed slightly, still not comfortable with the situation but knowing that Christine truly loved him.

As Christine sang, she tried to reconcile what she felt in her heart and what her conscience whispered in her head. Her dear friend, her Angel, stood before her pouring his heart out. How could she betray him? It was wrong and she knew it. But deep in her soul Raoul's voice resounded, telling her that they would never be free until Erik was out of their lives. She loved Raoul and she never wanted to do anything to hurt him, but she felt such pity for the lonely creature that she had loved like a father. She knew then what she had to do, for the sake of her future with Raoul and the love that they shared. The tears began to well up in her eyes as she raised her hand up to Erik's face. She gave him one last loving look before ripping off his mask, revealing his disfigured face to the entire Opera house.

"You damned girl!" Erik hissed at her." Do you realize what you've done? Now we must leave this place forever!"

In one quick movement Erik cut the rope to his right, sending the crystal chandelier crashing to the audience below. He threw both arms around Christine and held her tightly as they dropped through a trap door into the bowels of the Opera Populaire. They tumbled as they hit the hard ground beneath them. Erik quickly took hold of Christine's arm and dragged her through the dank corridors.

"Where are we going? Erik, I'm sorry. Please, where are you taking me?" Christine tried to plead with him, but it was useless. All she received in return was silence. And for Christine, that was more terrible and frightening than any harsh words he could have for her.

Erik moved in a silent rage. He had given her everything and had asked for nothing in return except her love. For a moment his heart had soared; he believed that her love belonged to him and him alone. But she had been deceiving him. Oh, she had played her role exquisitely! Her lover must have enjoyed watching her toy with his emotions. Erik wanted to make her suffer the way she had made him suffer, but that would never do. He couldn't bear to cause her any harm, no matter what she had done to him. Despite everything, he still loved her.

After a short time, Christine felt the chill of the night air on her skin. They had left the Opera house and were running towards a horse-drawn carriage. Erik had made sure it would be waiting there for them, but he had hoped that they would be arriving under different circumstances. In his dreams, he and Christine were running towards it, their fingers entwined. She was smiling; she never looked more beautiful than when she was smiling. He gently lifted her up into the carriage and she gave him a passionate kiss as they ran away together, singing into the night air.

Erik was sorely disappointed at the reality of the situation. He roughly tossed Christine into the carriage and jumped up to the front. As the horse took off into a gallop, Christine looked behind her. A chill ran through her whole body; she feared that it would be the last time she ever saw her childhood home, or her sweet fiancée.


	2. Desperation

The charred remains of the Opera Populaire stood out against the night sky. Black smoke still spiraled from the windows, mingling with the dark clouds that hung in the air. Three bodies covered with white sheets lay outside the building. It was a miracle that almost everyone who was there that night had escaped. Many were able to leave without a scratch on them. They filled the streets, their faces and clothes covered in dark soot. They were all shouting at once, some of them out of anger, but mostly out of fear. It took the police fifteen minutes to calm them down enough to the point where they could ask questions. They all said the same thing.

"It was awful, simply awful."

"I've never seen anything so horrible in all my life."

"I have no idea who he was! I don't even think he was really human."

The police had searched most of the dark catacombs of the Opera house. They had found a strange home by an underground lake. It appeared as though someone may have been living there, but it was practically empty; it seemed as though any trace of the mysterious Ghost had vanished. Raoul sat on the stone steps, his head in his hands. It felt like forever ago when he had last seen his fiancée. He looked up into the face of the detective, pleading once more for the chance to go after his kidnapped love.

"Monsieur, I have told you everything I know," he said in a frustrated voice. "We had planned to capture him when he came to see Miss Daae perform, but he was a step ahead of us. He appeared on stage and tried to lure her away. When she revealed his identity, he destroyed the chandelier as a distraction so he could escape with her. I immediately tried to flee from my seat and save her, but…" he started to break down, remembering how helpless he had felt, knowing that Christine was in danger and there was nothing he could do to save her, " the crowd was so thick. I…I pushed my way through to the outside, but they were gone. That was when you apprehended me and I have been here ever since!"

"Monsieur, I understand that you are upset, but you need to calm down. You're the only one here who seems to understand what happened. Now, you will answer my questions, or I can put you in a cell until you are ready to do so!"

Raoul was beyond the point of exasperation. Why wouldn't they just let him leave? Every minute they kept him there was another minute that Christine had to spend with that monster. Raoul cringed imagining what he would do to her. The way he had put his hands all over her during their performance…Raoul clenched his hands into fists. He stood and kicked a piece of debris that lay in front of him, wishing that it was the man who had kidnapped his fiancée. It was no use; the rage inside him wouldn't fade away. For a moment he stood there, and his fury towards Erik was soon directed at himself. Raoul was filled with overwhelming guilt. He was practically choking on it. He looked up at the sky, his hands rubbing the back of his neck. Why had he asked her to help him? He thought his plan was fool-proof. He should have known better than to challenge the Phantom in his own opera. Raoul could no longer control the emotions that had been building up inside him. On the verge of tears, he appealed to the detective once more.

"Monsieur please. I'm begging you. I can't live without her. I won't take another easy breath until she is here in my arms and I know she is safe. I _need_ to find her. Please," Raoul's voice cracked.

The detective let out a defeated sigh. "Vicomte, we don't want anyone else to put themselves in harm's way. I am asking you not to take this investigation into your own hands. Please don't do anything without the support of the police."

"I will agree to that only if you agree to include me in your investigation. She is my whole world."

"Very well, monsieur. We shall work together to find your fiancée. I will assign some men to you. You can take them with you on your journey. I am going stay here and see if I can find anything out."

"Thank you, monsieur. How soon can your men be ready?"

"Give them a chance to pick up some supplies. You will be on your way as soon as possible."

Raoul walked away with a renewed hope. When all was prepared, he and the men set out on their quest. As they neared the city limits, Raoul took one last look behind him. He vowed not to lay his eyes on Paris again until Christine was safe with him.


	3. Earning Her Love

Christine awoke when the carriage came to an abrupt stop. She had no idea where she was or how long she had been sleeping. How could she be so foolish to let herself fall asleep! She could not tell which way was home. Even if she found a way to escape from this place, she had nowhere to run to. Without any bars, Erik had her trapped.

He came around to where she was sitting and extended a hand to help her out of the carriage. The rage she had seen in his eyes the night before was gone, replaced with guilt and sorrow.

"I'm sorry if I harmed you, my dear," he said quietly, not daring to look at her. "I wish things had gone more according to my plan, but you ruined that."

He saw the tears begin to fall down her cheek. He instinctively reached out to wipe them from her beautiful face, but she recoiled from his touch. Oh God what had he done! Surely she hated him for taking her away. But she would forget that with time. He would give her a new life and somehow she'd be happy. He'd make her see that he had done it all for her, because he loved her.

Christine climbed out of the carriage and looked around. He had brought her to a cottage somewhere in the countryside. She assumed that they were still in France, but she knew she couldn't trust her own judgment. Her heart silently called out to Raoul. Despite the hopelessness that she felt, she couldn't abandon faith. Somehow he would find her. She knew that even now he was plotting some way to rescue her. He would take her away from here and they would be together forever.

She stoically followed Erik into the small house. He spoke softly and calmly, trying to reassure Christine that she was safe. As he led her through the rooms, Christine realized that it was exactly like the first time he had taken her to the house by the lake. He used the same grand gestures, the same tone of voice. But he was not the same man that she had known then. Or maybe he was. Maybe she never really knew him at all.

"You can sleep in here for now," he said, opening the door to a sunny yellow room. A large wooden desk sat in front of the window. In the corner Christine saw an ornately carved armoire. There was a bare four-post bed beside her. Next to it stood a small nightstand with a single gold candlestick.

"Tomorrow we will go to the village and buy some food and clothes. We will have to leave early; the village is half a day's journey by horse," Erik said as he backed out of the room, leaving Christine alone.

Christine walked slowly around the room, running her hand along the surface of the desk. If she were here under different circumstances, it would actually be a rather pleasant place to stay. She loved the bright warmth of the room. It also had a lovely view; there was a field of wildflowers outside. Through the window Christine could see a large weeping willow tree. Weeping willow…Christine thought it a bit ironic. Erik entered the room once again, in his hands a down pillow and a large red quilt. He lay them down on the bed.

"I'll leave you to get some rest now. Remember, we must leave early tomorrow," Erik began to close the door behind him but stopped to address Christine once more, "Christine…this is your home now. Try to make yourself comfortable here."

Christine sat down at the foot of the bed and stared out the window. She stayed like that until the sun set and the moon had risen. She laid back and hugged her pillow tightly to her chest. In her heart she made a silent prayer that she would never again watch another sunset in that room.

They awoke the next morning before the sun had even risen. All night Christine had the most wonderful dreams. She dreamt of a life with Raoul, a life in a different time and place, a life in which they knew nothing of the Opera Populaire or Erik.

Christine was awakened by Erik's soft voice. He gently rubbed her arm, beckoning her to wake up. Christine quickly jumped up and backed away from him.

"Don't ever touch me. You make my skin crawl," she said coldly.

Her words stung Erik more than she could possibly know. He knew that it would be difficult at first. He had taken his beautiful bird and placed her in a cage. He only hoped that if he continued to show her warmth that the ice around her heart would melt. He longed for things to be as they were before. The late nights when she would call upon her angel and they would sing together, their souls joining in the passion of music. He had taken for granted how perfect everything was on those wonderful nights. If her knight hadn't rode in on his white horse, Christine would still have her Angel and Erik would still be the only man in her heart. Erik was determined to make her remember. He would make her see the man behind the monster.

Christine tied her black cloak around her shoulders. Black…the color of mourning. Christine mourned for the death of her soul, for it couldn't survive without Raoul. Christine straightened her shoulders and raised her chin, determined not to think such depressing thoughts. She would be free of this prison soon enough. She pulled the hood over her dark hair and opened her door. Erik stood there in the doorway, waiting for her.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

"I am not yours," she replied callously.

Erik held out his hand to her. She looked down at his black gloves and walked right past him. Erik's lips pursed, holding in the cruel words that threatened to roll off of his tongue. They walked out into the cold, hushed morning. Erik opened the carriage door, allowing Christine to climb in. Erik sat up front to guide the horses. An opening at the front of the carriage allowed for conversation between passenger and driver, but Christine refused to speak a word. Erik wanted so desperately to hear her voice, to see some faint glimmer of happiness in her face, but she was like stone. After a few hours on the road, Erik broke the deafening silence.

"When we get to the village, don't speak to anyone. If you see something you like, say the word and it will be yours. I won't deny you anything, my love."

"What about my freedom?" Christine asked quietly.

"You are free Christine! When we return to our home you can do whatever you wish. All I ask is that you stay with me."

"That place will never be my home," she said, her voice becoming louder and angrier.

Erik tried to hide the tears that fell from his eyes. He couldn't bear the bitter resentment in her voice.

When they arrived at the village, he once again attempted to help Christine out of the carriage. He was always disappointed; since he had taken her from the Opera house that night she wouldn't let him touch her. She silently followed Erik through the village. She looked almost like a stray dog that reluctantly follows strangers home because it has nowhere else to go. He went through the town to various merchants and bought food and some simple furnishings for the cottage. He offered Christine the most beautiful dresses and jewelry, but she refused to even look at any of them.

For days she would neither eat nor speak. Every attempt Erik made to change her mood was met with violent resistance. At night, he could hear her crying herself to sleep, but she would never let him console her. She spent her days sitting at the desk in her room, staring out the window. She would get a distant look in her eyes and it was at that time he knew she was thinking about Raoul. Erik often sang to her, trying to lure the girl he had loved at the Opera house to reveal herself once again. She would simply sigh and turn her back.

She was becoming dangerously thin from the starvation and grief. Her face was sickly and pale; dark circles were forming under her eyes. Erik cursed himself for letting this happen to her. But truly there was nothing he could do for her; she wouldn't allow it! Why wouldn't she let him help her?

One day Erik was passing by Christine's room. He paused to look in on her. As always, she was sitting in her chair staring out the window. The bowl of soup he had brought to her last night was still sitting on the desk. Perhaps she was too weak or too exhausted to throw it to the floor as she did with every other meal. Erik could stand the pain of watching her like this no longer. He approached her slowly, kneeling on the ground beside her.

"Christine, please don't do this to yourself," he pleaded, pulling her hair from her eyes and over her shoulder. "Let me make you happy. That's all I want. That's all I've ever wanted…someone to love."

She turned to him and gave him a weak smile. "I want to go home, Erik."

Erik gave a resigned sigh. She had asked him for the one thing he couldn't offer her. If she gave him the chance, he knew he could convince her to stay with him. She would choose to stay there willingly because that was where she belonged.

"Promise me this, my love. You will live here with me for a year. You will give me a real chance to make you happy. If you find after that time that you would rather return to the Opera, I will gladly take you back," he said earnestly, looking deep into her eyes.

Christine nodded slightly. "Thank you, Erik."

Upon making the agreement, Christine's appetite returned to her and she felt the pain of an empty stomach. She picked up the spoon that lay in front of her and began to eat the soup Erik had prepared, not really caring that it was now cold.

Erik stood in the doorway and watched her eat, smiling to himself. He wasn't worried about taking her back to the Opera Populaire. He finally had the opportunity to make Christine love him the way he loved her, and this time no one was around to interfere.


	4. The Pain of Lost Love

That night was unusually cold, but it didn't matter to Raoul. Since Christine had been taken from him he always felt cold. He was lost in winter without her. He sat at a distance from the circle of tents, staring up at the stars. He refused to go near the fire where the other men of his search party were gathered. The sound of people laughing only seemed to amplify his pain. Without Christine, Raoul preferred the lonely darkness. At that moment, Raoul understood the Phantom's pain and the insanity that followed it. He knew how it felt to lose everything that ever mattered to you, and it was slowly killing him.

"Monsieur," a voice spoke firmly, breaking his thoughts, "why don't you come have something to eat?"

It was Maurice, one of the men assigned to him by the detective. Maurice had become one of Raoul's closest confidants. He had told Maurice everything about his time at the house by the sea and the Opera Populaire. Maurice knew every detail of every moment Raoul had spent with Christine. Only Maurice knew of the jealousy he felt towards Erik. He was envious of the music that bonded him to Christine. Raoul's every moment was dedicated to her. If not for Maurice, he would be dead by now. Maurice was the one who spoke words of reason, forcing him to stop his search and take time to eat and sleep. _You'll do her no good if you're dead_.

"Very well, mon amie. Give me a moment," Raoul answered, taking his eyes from the sky to look at his companion. Maurice nodded and took a few steps back.

Raoul sighed deeply, watching his breath hang on the air. It was in those moments of stillness that he felt closest to Christine. He would close his eyes and let his soul take him to her. In his mind he saw her trapped in a small dark room, pining for him the way he longed for her. Across the distance he could feel her pain like a knife in his heart.

Raoul whispered into the night, "I'm coming, my love. No matter how long it takes me, or how far I have to travel, I will find you."

He stood and began the walk back to the camp. Maurice gave him a reassuring pat on the back as they approached the flickering flames. Raoul collapsed beside his tent. Maurice brought him a plate of food and sat down beside him. The two of them ate with their hands, abandoning any formality. When they were finished, Raoul bid his companions good-night and lifted the flap of his tent, going inside to sleep. But for a long while, sleep wouldn't come. Raoul lay flat on his back, his hands folded behind his head. He thought about the first day he met Christine. Even as a child she had a graceful beauty that radiated from her face. He remembered the look of horror on that beautiful face when the red scarf floated out to the sea. Without thinking and against the cries of his governess, Raoul had run after it. He still remembered how the spray of the waves felt against his face. He was chilled to the bone when he emerged with Christine's beloved possession. But the reward she gave him, a light kiss on the cheek, immediately sent a tingling warmth throughout his whole body. He had known even then that his feelings for her were deeper than a childish crush.

Raoul abandoned his thoughts for a moment to listen for noises outside his tent. The camp had grown silent, suggesting that Raoul had stayed awake for far too long. He closed his eyes and let sleep take hold of him. It was the only time that he felt any peace. He never had any real dreams, but in the calm of slumber he felt a sense of unity with Christine. As if, during the night, their souls left their bodies and were brought together in some mystical place. Raoul once tried to explain it to Maurice, but the feeling was beyond words or comprehension, even for Raoul himself. Raoul believed that his nighttime journeys were a blessing, given by God to ease his suffering. But when the morning came and he opened his eyes, the feeling would fade, leaving a bittersweet taste in Raoul's soul. His heart was torn down the middle, and nothing but Christine's presence and loving words could mend it.


	5. Falling Into You

Erik was amazed at the change their arrangement had caused in Christine. It was a brilliant plan that couldn't have arrived at a better time. Christine had been teetering dangerously close to death. A few more days and she would have fallen over the edge. But all that was changed now. Over the past few weeks Erik saw the beautiful girl he had known at the Opera Populaire emerging from her self-imposed prison and isolation. She wore daisies in her dark curls and her cheeks had resumed their rosy complexion. Erik often said that her sparkling eyes made the stars jealous, making a shy smile creep across her face and her cheeks to flush a deep red. She no longer moped sadly around the house, but smiled brightly wherever she went. Their trips to the village, which were once dismal journeys, had become joyous adventures. During the long rides, Erik would chide Christine for chattering incessantly, but he secretly treasured every word that escaped her lips. At home, Christine spent most of her daytime hours outdoors, reading or watching the soft, billowy clouds roll by.

She was laying in the grass at that very moment, breathing in the sweet scent of flowers that floated on the breeze. She closed her eyes and let the warmth of sunlight fill her entire body. Erik watched her through the tiny window in his bedroom. His thoughts drifted off towards the future, their future. They would be married soon enough. He was sure that he could find a priest willing to perform the ceremony. He knew that Christine would adore a ceremony outside. Under the light of the silver moon, they would pledge their unending love to one another. Then the tiny room that Christine called her own would become the nursery. Erik imagined placing his baby girl in a little white bassinet. A sweet little girl who would have her mother's striking beauty, and when she grew he would teach her to sing just like her mother. Erik would be an indulgent father, showering her with the love and compassion that he had never had, not even from his own mother. Then one day, he could take his family back to Paris. His daughter would be the finest singer the Opera Populaire had ever known. He would be able to walk down the street with pride; a beautiful wife on his arm and a lovely young daughter sought out by innumerous suitors. Yes, his family would be the envy of Paris's finest society.

Erik was pulled from his thoughts by a sound that caused his heart to beat faster. At first he was sure that his ears were deceiving him, simply echoing with memories of the past. It couldn't be possible. Erik stood and slowly leaned in closer his window. What he saw filled his soul with elation. Christine was singing! If Erik was able to hear only one sound for the rest of his life he would choose Christine's voice at that moment. She sang with such beauty and clarity that it brought Erik to the verge of tears. He was certain now that things were finally going his way. Their cozy little cottage was already beginning to feel like home. Erik had brought many of the furnishings from his house by the lake along with him, but he had promised Christine that he would take her to town and she could purchase a few things of her own. Perhaps a woman's touch could brighten up their home a bit.

Erik crossed the dining room and entered the kitchen. He wiped the crumbs of bread off of the table and swept the floor. He placed some fresh picked fruit in a wooden bowl and set it out on the table. He picked up a large red apple and rubbed it on his shirt. He took a bite, savoring the sweet taste as he stood in front of the stove. He was still trying to decide what to prepare for dinner when Christine burst inside, laughing loudly. Erik leaned over to peek into the entrance, grabbing hold of the door molding for support. To his surprise, Christine was standing in the doorway, dripping wet. She leaned backwards against the door, causing it to close with a loud bang, and collapsed into a nearby chair.

"Oh Erik, don't you just love the spring rain?" she asked, out of breath. She grabbed the hem of her skirt and began to ring out the water, "I was sitting outside, singing to myself and all the sudden it just started coming down! I swear those clouds must have all gathered in a second. Come sit with me," she said with a quiet but excited voice, patting the seat of the chair next to her, "I love to listen to the rain falling on the roof and windows."

Erik smiled and set his half-eaten apple on the table as he lowered himself into the chair next to her, his eyes intently fixed on Christine's face. Christine closed her eyes, savoring the sound of the fat droplets falling all around her. A rumble of thunder gently shook the house. A slight smile graced Christine's lips and she began to hum softly. The water that weighed down her curls against her face seemed to make her smooth white skin and full lips even more captivating. Erik found it strange how every time he saw her, she looked more beautiful to him. He brought his face in close to hers and began to sing.

"_You alone can make my song take flight._"

He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, and she didn't turn away. She was lost in the music of the rain and the sweet, seductive sound of Erik's voice. He slowly pulled her closer to him to caress her lips with a kiss…


	6. Breaking Down

Christine was so lost in the music of the rain that she didn't even feel Erik's hand upon her cheek. Since she was a little girl, Christine had loved the rain. She remembered the days that she and her father would run through the fields in the middle of a storm. He lifted her high over his head and let her sit on his shoulders. She would turn her head up towards the heavens and stretched her arms out like the wings of a bird. She remembered the sweet taste of rain upon her lips. When she finally opened her eyes again, Christine realized that it wasn't rain that hung upon her lips, but Erik's own warm mouth. She pushed him back and stood up with such force that he almost tumbled out of his chair.

"What do you think you are doing?" she asked, outraged. "I, monsieur, am an engaged woman!"

An engaged woman? Erik couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What?" he growled in a low voice.

"Erik," she started gently, "I know that I agreed to live here with you, but in my heart I still feel that Raoul is my fiancée."

"I see," he said quietly, looking down at the floor. "So you play along with my game, bide your time until you can return to your precious Vicomte?"

"Erik that is not fair," Christine replied, her voice growing increasingly angry. "You knew when you brought me here that I loved Raoul. Did you expect me just to forget everything that I felt for him?"

"I… I thought if I could take you away, his face would fade from your memory. I love you, Christine. I know that you love me too. I thought after some time here that you would come to realize that. What you feel for him isn't really love, it's just attraction; you think you love him but you really just love to look at him!"

Christine eyed him incredulously, "Do you really think me that shallow? Do you believe that his face is all that matters to me? Tell me this Erik, do you think Raoul will still look as handsome as he does today 30 or 40 years from now?"

Erik watched her angry face, waiting for some inclination that she would soften towards him.

"Of course he won't. But that is no matter to me. That's not why I love him!" Christine turned her eyes away from Erik's face, her voicing growing gentle. "I love him because he has a beautiful heart. I love the way my hand fits perfectly in his, the way he takes me in his arms and makes me feel safe. I love the way he looks at me, like I am the only thing he sees. He's the most generous man I've ever known. He would do anything for me."

Christine had a distant look in her eye, like she was seeing through the walls, past the fields and the hills, across the distance that separated her and Raoul. "I'm sure that even now he is searching for me. He won't stop until he finds me."

Christine's last remark pushed Erik over the edge. So, all this time she had just been waiting for Raoul. "And what will you do when he finds you? Run away together? Live your happily ever after and leave me here to rot?" he yelled, standing and fiercely knocking over his chair.

Erik picked up a vase that sat on the end table and threw it violently against the wall, shattering it into thousands of pieces. "Did you have any intention of fulfilling your promise! You have played with my heart too many times mademoiselle!" Erik shouted, advancing on Christine like a charging bull.

Christine backed herself into a corner, her eyes squeezed shut and her arms around her head, trying to protect herself from Erik's wrath. For a few tense moments, she stood like that. But Erik had suddenly become very calm. He ran his fingers through his hair, straightening out the strands that had become tousled during his rant.

His voice was very cold and calculated, "It seems to me that you have broken our bargain. You were to give me a real chance to love you, but all the while you harbored thoughts of rescue by your betrothed. As such, I am not required to uphold my end of the deal. You will stay here with me Christine, forever."

With that, he turned and walked back towards the kitchen. Christine slowly sank to the floor. The realization of the true consequences of her words sent her spiraling into a panic. Christine couldn't control her tears; she didn't really want to. She wanted Erik to hear her cry so that he would know what he had done to her. Why didn't she just keep her mouth shut? Everything was going along so well. She could have stayed with Erik until Raoul came for her. She had seen in her mind how perfect it would all be. She and Erik would spend their time at the cottage becoming friends again. That part of her dream had come true; at least it had been for a while. No matter how angry she had been with Erik, Christine could never hate him. And when at last Raoul came for her, Erik would understand. He would know that the love Christine felt for him was different than the love she had for Raoul, but it was still special. Erik would know that he would never truly lose her. And so he would give them his blessing. He would kiss her forehead and wave as she left with her knight in shining armor. It was all the foolish hope of a naïve girl, Christine understood that now. It didn't matter anymore; now all her hopes were shattered. He was never going to let her leave.

"Oh God," she prayed silently, "Please guide Raoul's footsteps towards me. Don't abandon me to this hell."

"Christine," Erik called to her from the kitchen. "Dinner is prepared. Come join me at the table."

She did not respond. She hugged her legs to her chest and froze herself to that spot. She was not going to eat with that monster.

"Christine, did you hear me?"

Erik walked out of the kitchen holding a plate of food. "Christine, will you be joining me in the kitchen?"

Again she did not respond. Her eyes seemed to be focused on something across the room; she wouldn't even look at him. Erik a laid plate of food down in front of her and sat down next to her.

"Come now Christine. Eat before it gets cold."

Christine kept her eyes fixed on that invisible object on the other side of the room.

Erik's voice became forceful. "We will not begin this game again my dear. You will not win my sympathy this time. Now, you will eat or I will force it down your beautiful throat."

Christine gave him an angry glare and picked up her fork. She would give in to his demands, but she wouldn't yield her heart to him. He wasn't going to take her hope. She wasn't going to let him break her. 


	7. For a Price

Gustave spurred his horse on to a gallop. As the French countryside flew past him, he couldn't help but let out a victorious cry. His eyes grew wide, thinking of the reward he would receive. The Vicomte would pay anything for the kind of information he had. They had been searching for so many months without any sign of the mysterious Phantom or his prisoner. As a scout, Gustave had gone ahead of the search party to see if he could find out anything about the missing diva. In a far off village he had heard rumors of a masked man who brought a young girl with him to town. The girl always followed the man silently, her face hidden under a hooded cloak. They would stay only long enough to buy food; they never really spoke to anyone. Gustave was certain that it was the Vicomte's fiancée and her captor.

Gustave wasn't exactly a wealthy man. Sure, the Vicomte was paying him well enough. Raoul had decided that the small amount of men given by the detective to help in the search wouldn't be enough to find Christine. That's why he approached Gustave and his companions. Raoul was just leaving the Opera house after Christine's disappearance. He was walking past an alley when he was grabbed from behind and pulled into the darkness. It was a homeless old man. He smiled a toothless grin, causing the wrinkles in his face to deepen.

"I recognize you. You are the Vicomte de Chagny, the patron of the Opera Populaire."

"Yes, monsieur," Raoul responded tentatively. He had no idea why this man had detained him.

"You have lost someone very important to you, no?" he said quietly, leaning his head closer to Raoul's.

"Do you have any information that could help me find her?" Raoul asked anxiously.

"Not I, monsieur. But I know of someone that could help. Continue down this alley to the bar Ciel Rouge. There is a man there, Gustave. For a price, he will help you find your beloved."

Raoul reached his hands into his pockets. He didn't have much money with him, but everything he had he gave to the old man. "Thank you for your help, monsieur," he called as he hurried off down the alley

"Thank you for your generosity, Vicomte," he replied, picking up his cane and heading down the street.

Raoul ran down to the end of the alley and entered the bar. He wandered from person to person, inquiring after Gustave. Finally one man was able to point him out. Raoul approached the bar and was finally able to see Gustave. He then remembered why he had recognized that name when the old man had told him to look for. Gustave and his men were well-known vigilantes. If anyone could find Christine, it was them. Of course their services came at a high price. The money Gustave received helped keep him well-dressed. His light hair was always perfectly groomed. He looked younger than his thirty years, which was the reason he always wore a beard and mustache.

As Gustave rode back towards the camp, he was suddenly struck with a thought; the most brilliant scheme he had ever had, in his opinion. Why wait for the Vicomte to offer him a reward? Why not charge him for every bit of information that he had? Le Vicomte de Chagny was going pay until there was nothing left.

Raoul had gathered the men together to discuss what they all had found. It was a very short meeting; they had all come back empty-handed. Raoul dropped his head in desperation. Every day that went by without any new information seemed to fly faster. He felt time slipping through his fingers. He was beginning to worry that he would spend the rest of his life searching for something that couldn't be found. Erik was extremely intelligent. He could have been planning this for months. He was probably having a laugh right now at Raoul's expense.

In the distance Raoul heard the pounding of a horse galloping towards the camp. He ran towards the approaching scout.

"Gustave! For the love of God, please tell me that you have found something," Raoul called out in resigned desperation.

Gustave jumped proudly off of his horse, "Indeed I have monsieur, indeed I have."

Raoul waited, hope rising up inside him. Had he finally found Christine? He watched Gustave in anticipation, but he just turned around to tend to his horse.

"Well? What is it?" Raoul asked anxiously.

"Monsieur, I think we had better go inside your tent to discuss this," Gustave answered seriously.

Raoul gave Gustave a puzzled look, but decided that he must have his reasons. Raoul led the way towards his tent at the back of camp. He felt like he was walking on air. Everything he had hoped and prayed for was finally coming true. He lifted the flap and entered. It was by no means obvious that this had been the home of an aristocrat for the past month. To the side there was a thin blanket, no pillow. Raoul spent his nights sleeping on the dirt. There was also a makeshift table where a map had been laid out. Raoul had spent countless hours studying it, looking for any place that Erik would be able to conceal Christine. This was where Raoul ate his meals. He subsisted on whatever the party could catch. The supplies they had bought at the last village were beginning to wear thin, and Raoul left them to his men.

He sat in the dirt and motioned for Gustave to sit on his blanket.

"Alright monsieur. Why was it necessary for us to speak in private?"

"Well, before I tell you what I know, there is the matter of payment to be cleared up," Gustave replied, taking a pear out of his bag and biting into it.

"I beg your pardon? I already advanced you the money. I… don't understand," Raoul said in confusion.

"You see, I figure you're getting more out of this deal than I am," Gustave began, wiping his mouth. "I know how wealthy your family is. You shell out a little cash and in return you receive an indefinite amount of my time. If this girl is really as important to you as you say she is, then you should be willing to spread the wealth around. So you wanna know what I know about your sweet little fiancée, you're gonna start handing over the money," he finished, a cruel smile on his face.

"I'll give you whatever you want, Gustave. Please, there is no time to waste."

"Very well then, monsieur. I'm glad we could make an arrangement. Now, I shall be requiring 100,000 francs for myself and 30,000 for each of my men."

"Whatever you want," Raoul answered quickly. "I will get you your money upon our return to Paris."

Gustave gave a little chuckle, "Oh no, no, monsieur. I require payment up front."

"I…I don't have that much money with me. I only have money for supplies when we arrive at the next town. Please, I'm begging you. You have my word that you will get your money," Raoul said earnestly.

"No, monsieur. I have broken my own word too many times to trust the promise of another."

"Surely there must be something that can be done." Raoul was desperate. How could someone be so heartless?

"I'm afraid not. If that is all, monsieur le Vicomte, I shall take my companions and we will be on our way." Gustave stood to leave.

Raoul, a man who was usually so calm and collected, was suddenly transformed into a vicious animal. How dare this man stand in his way of finding Christine? He stood up and punched Gustave squarely in the face. The entire camp was shocked to see Gustave tumble backwards out of the Vicomte's tent. Then Raoul came charging out, grabbing Gustave by the collar and pulling him to his feet.

"Listen to me, you bastard. I have been more than willing to give in to your demands. Now, tell me what you know!"

Gustave smiled, turning his head to the side to spit out the pool of blood forming in his mouth. "I'm surprised, Vicomte. Does your breed usually behave this way?"

"I am losing my patience with you. You will start talking, or I will tear you to pieces with my own two hands," Raoul growled threateningly.

Raoul heard the cocking of pistol behind him, and felt cold steel pressed against the back of his head.

"Now, now monsieur. There's no need to get violent here," a voice playfully chided him.

The camp suddenly erupted as Gustave's men and the detective's men pulled guns on each other and began to shout. It was chaos as the search party turned on one another.

"Silence!" Raoul called out. The camp slowly quieted down, but everyone kept their pistols raised. Raoul glared at Gustave as he roughly pushed him away.

"My companions and I will be leaving now, monsieur. I wish you the best of luck with your search. And if you ever get a hold of the money, my offer is still on the table."

Gustave tipped his hat to Raoul as he mounted his horse. He let out a loud laugh as he and his men rode off.

"Don't worry monsieur le Vicomte," Maurice said reassuringly, placing a hand on Raoul's shoulder. "We don't need them. I assure you that we will find your fiancée."

Raoul let out a deep sigh. "Tell the men to saddle up. We're leaving."

"But monsieur," Maurice protested, "We have just stopped for the night. The men need to rest."

"They will rest when we reach the next town. Hopefully I will be able to recruit some more men for the search there." Raoul looked out into the distance, "She's out there somewhere, Maurice. She's depending on me. I can't let her down."

Raoul retreated to his tent to pack up his belongings. Once everything had been collected and placed on the horses, Raoul mounted his own horse. He reached into his pocket and removed a small photograph. It was very worn around the edges, as if the owner had held it many, many times. It was a picture of Christine that Raoul had held every night before going to sleep. He would run his fingers along her beautiful face and speak to it, imagining that somehow Christine would be able to hear him. He placed the picture in his pocket and called out for the men to move on. At the time, he wasn't aware that he was drawing nearer to Christine and her captor every day.


	8. Rebellion

Christine was sitting in a small wooden rocking chair on the porch. She spent so many afternoons sitting in that chair that it practically conformed to her body. She slowly pointed her toes, causing the chair to roll backwards. Her eyes were slightly squinted and her lips were tightly pursed. She was intently working on her needlepoint. On her last journey to the village with Erik, she had purchased a small white handkerchief into which she was now stitching hers and Raoul's initials. She deftly pulled the pale blue string through the fabric, then plunged the needle back in. This was one of Christine's small, but many acts of defiance. She reveled in the little ways that she held on to her hope that Raoul would rescue her. Some days she would make up love songs and sing them in her head or write letters to Raoul that she could never send, imagining what his response would be.

One day she found a green notebook that had been discarded under her bed. She picked it up and blew off the dust, causing her to release a squeaky sneeze. She opened the blank, yellowed pages and decided that it would be perfect for writing down her thoughts. Christine began by writing the story of her life. She thought it was better than any tale she could invent. She dipped her pen in the ink and the very first word she wrote was "Raoul". It was with Raoul that she felt her life had truly started. As time went by and she wrote more, the story grew more and more fantastic. Perhaps she had done it on purpose, or maybe her memory had become so distorted with her fantasies. Whatever the reason, Christine loved quietly awaking in the middle of the night and reading that book by candlelight. She would never reveal any of these things to Erik, but simply knowing that she had committed the act lifted Christine's spirit. Whenever she felt like he was winning, like he was finally going to break down her spirit and make her give in to him, she would find someway to fight: her small acts of defiance.

She finished her needlepoint and stopped rocking to observe her work. She gingerly ran her fingers over the threaded letters. Suddenly a gust of wind came up, causing Christine to shiver. She held tightly to her handkerchief which had almost been blown away. She rubbed her bare arms and stood to go inside. She folded her handkerchief and hid it inside her dress. She would immediately proceed to her room and place it under the loose floorboard under her bed to hide it with her other prized possessions, things she feared Erik would try to take from her. Among them was the beautiful engagement ring Raoul had given her. The first day they had arrived Erik had grabbed hold of her hand to take it. He asked her where it was.

"Oh, I…it must have fallen off in the catacombs of the Opera house or on our way to the carriage. I must have lost it." She hung her head and pretended to cry. She knew Erik better than he thought she did. She knew that he would never let her keep a reminder of her true love. She had taken it off in the carriage and put it in her shoe. Christine smiled to herself, remembering her treachery. She was so caught up in the memory that she walked right into Erik on the way to her room. She almost fell backwards, but Erik caught her arm and lifted her to her feet.

"Ah, Christine. You're freezing cold, would you like a hot cup of tea?"

"No thank you. Is that all?" she replied curtly.

Christine didn't notice Erik wince slightly. Despite his facade of power, he was very sensitive to the way she treated him. She hardly ever spoke to him, and when she did it was always in short, terse sentences.

"No, it's not. I was actually just about to come find you. I thought we could have a picnic dinner tomorrow night. There will be a full moon, so it should be very lovely. Would you like that?"

"Does it really matter what I like?" she asked in an exasperated voice. "I am your prisoner here. Whatever you decided will be done, by my will or not. Good day, _sir_." She gave Erik a curtsey and an angry look before continuing on to her room. As she walked past Erik, he grabbed her arm and whirled her around, pulling her body up against his, their lips almost touching. Christine tried desperately not to reveal her terror; she couldn't let him know that he could frighten her. She had to stay in control.

"I need to go into town to buy the food for our moonlit picnic."

"Go then. Who is stopping you?"

"My dearest, do you think I would leave you here all alone?" he asked in a mockingly sweet voice.

"Fine!" Christine pulled herself from Erik's grasp. "I will be prepared to leave first thing in the morning."

She walked briskly to her room and slammed the door behind her. She threw herself down on the bed and screamed into her pillow. She kicked her legs violently, causing her red quilt to fall to the floor. After a moment she sat up, feeling completely foolish.

"Christine, grow up," she chastised herself. She folded her quilt and placed it back on the bed. She got on her hands and knees and reached under the bed, instinctively finding the loose floorboard. She removed the handkerchief from its hiding place and gently laid it amongst her other treasures. Maybe one day she could give it to her daughter. Christine smiled at the thought of children. She would be a very loving mother. Christine looked down at her possessions, wondering if her children should really know about this part of her life. She noticed the faded green notebook and realized that she hadn't written in it for a while.

She sat down at the old, scratched desk in her room and turned to a blank page. She looked out her window, hoping for some inspiration. Christine could tell that the cottage was old just by looking at the window. The glass had become very distorted over time, causing even the most beautiful flowers to appear ugly. Christine stared out the window, but her muse never came to her. Perhaps tomorrow she would have an idea to write about. She was about to close the book when she was struck with the urge to draw. She began tentatively, putting her pen down over the same place a couple of times. Eventually she had an oval. She continued to add to it, placing a circle here, a line there. Her hand seemed to be moving independently of her thoughts. She wasn't sure exactly where her pen was going; she just kept her hand moving. She looked up from her drawing when Erik called to her. Lunch. Very well. Since Erik had condemned her to an eternity in the cottage, Christine always ate with an appetite. What was the point of starving herself? She needed her strength to continue fighting. She glanced down at her drawing and almost cried when she realized what her hand had created. The drawing was made in the perfect image of Raoul.

Christine went to bed early that night. She excused herself from the table after dinner and went straight to her room. She pulled the musty drapes closed; only a sliver of light from the moon fell upon her bed. She knelt beside her bed and folded her hands to pray. She prayed for the same thing every night. In fact, most of Christine's life nowadays was routine. Sometimes she longed for the busy life of the Opera Populaire. It might not always have been fun, but at least she was never bored. Christine let out a quiet sigh. Why doesn't life ever turn out the way you plan? Sometimes she felt like fate was punishing her for some sin she committed in her childhood, some sin that was completely unknown to her. She pulled back the covers and lowered herself onto the bed. She fell asleep almost instantly, wondering what new surprises life had in store for her.

When she awoke the next morning, Erik was outside preparing the horse and carriage for their journey. She went to her armoire to choose a dress. It was cold in the morning and Christine could see her breath, but she knew that when the sun came out, the afternoon would be quite warm. She finally settled on a daisy-yellow dress. It was simple, no frills. It would be comfortable enough for the journey. She tied her dark green cloak around her shoulders and pulled the hood up. Her footsteps were silent as she walked towards the carriage. As she approached Erik he turned around, and she saw that he wasn't wearing his mask.

He quickly turned his back to her and said quietly, "I wasn't aware that you were awake. I'm sorry."

Christine often wondered why he continued to wear his mask around the house. There was no one around for many miles; no one ever traveled these roads. And she had already seen his face. She thought that, perhaps, Erik was more horrified by his face than she was. He hurried into the house and called to her to get into the carriage. When he joined her outside, he was wearing his mask and was carrying a large handful of money that he put in his pocket. Christine wondered why he would need so much, they were only buying food. They began their long journey, as always, in silence.

They arrived at the village in the middle of the afternoon. It was very warm, as Christine had predicted. The sun stood in the middle of the sky, banishing the shadows. Christine took off her cloak and left it in the carriage. The men in the village stared at her as she passed by. Christine looked down to avoid making eye contact with any of them. Erik walked slowly ahead of her and led her to the old woman that they always bought their food from. He carefully selected the food that he would prepare for their picnic. He gave the woman her money, and a little extra. He was in a generous mood. He turned to Christine and gave her a sly smile.

"Wait here. I'll be right back."

Erik walked off towards another vendor, every few steps looking over his shoulder to make sure Christine was still standing there. She kept her eyes on him until he was out of sight. She frantically turned to the old woman and grabbed her wrinkled hands.

"Please, you have to help me! My name is Christine Daae. That man is holding me captive in a cottage south of here. Please, can you help me?" Christine's words flew out of her mouth so fast that they were almost indistinguishable.

The old woman just smiled and patted Christine's hand. Christine's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Do you understand what I said? The man in the mask has made me his prisoner!"

"I'm afraid she's quite deaf," a deep voice from behind Christine said. Christine turned around, coming face to face with Erik.

"Don't worry my dear. I'm not angry. I knew you couldn't be trusted. I planned on your attempt to escape, that's why I left you with someone who couldn't understand a word you said."

Christine glowered at him. He was so arrogant!

"I will still give you your gift, though. After all, I put a lot of work into. I had it made especially for you."

Christine finally noticed the box that Erik held in his hands. It wasn't very large, no bigger than a jewelry box. He had it hidden under a small square of red fabric. He smiled at her and slowly lifted the fabric, revealing an ornately carved music box. He tossed the fabric aside and wound the box up.

"I do hope you like it my dear. I know that our relationship has been…strained lately. I thought you deserved something nice."

Erik lifted the lid, revealing a recreation of the stage of the Opera Populaire. On the stage was a tiny figure that looked remarkably like Christine. Christine's eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful gift. She placed her ear close to the box and listened. She knew that tune. She had heard it sung to her before, in a strange world of endless night. She reached her hands out to take the box, but pulled them back to her side. What was she thinking?

"It's very nice, but I can't accept this."

How could she even think of taking a gift from this man? He is the enemy, she told herself. Do not let him work his way back into your heart. Things can never be the way they were. If you want to leave here, if you want to return to Raoul, you have to stay strong.

"I can see that you put a lot of thought into it, but you must return it. I won't take it."

Erik tried to remain calm. "Very well," he said, roughly closing the music box. "I will take it home with us. Perhaps you will change your mind."

Erik looked to the sky and noticed that the sun was beginning to set. "We should go. Now. We don't want to be here when night falls."

Christine noticed that several other vendors were packing up their wares. "What's going on? What happens at night?"

"This isn't the safest place to be in the dark. Come along, into the carriage."

Christine climbed into the carriage and Erik gave the horse a whip, starting it to a trot. They had made the journey so many times that horse knew its way back to the cottage. Erik hardly had to guide it anymore. He glanced back at Christine who sat rigidly in her seat, hands folded in her lap. She was looking to her side at nothing in particular. Her dark eyes were shining and the setting sun reflected off of her hair. Her beauty captivated Erik. But if his focus hadn't been on Christine, he would have seen the group of men on horseback hidden in shadow not much further behind them.


	9. Shattered Hope

Erik pulled back on the reigns and the horse slowed to a stop in front of their little cottage. Christine hugged her cloak tightly around her and began walking towards the house.

"Where are you going?" Erik questioned with a suspicious voice.

"I'm going to put on something warmer. Or is that not allowed?"

Erik's face relaxed and his voice became calm, "By all means my dear. I shall go around to the back and set up our picnic. It's a clear night, so we should be able to see the stars."

"Words cannot express my joy," Christine sarcastically called back.

While Christine was in the house changing, Erik reached into the carriage to get the food he had purchased for them that afternoon. His hand fell upon his rejected gift. He gently lifted the music box out of the carriage, looking at it with sadness. This beautiful object wasn't made to be held in his rough hands, hands that had known death. It was made for her smooth, delicate hands. He wound it up and opened it, allowing his music to escape into the night. Tears came to his eyes as he watched the figure of his precious Christine on the stage of his Opera house. Why did she keep rejecting his affections? He had worked so hard to make her see that he loved her. He closed the lid of the music box and took it inside the cottage. He blinked back the tears and went back to his work of preparing the picnic.

Christine joined him outside, wearing a white dress. She looked like an angel in the moonlight. Erik shook out a large blue blanket and laid it on the ground. He offered Christine his hand and helped her sit down. As she straightened out her dress, he lit a single candle and placed it in the middle of the blanket. He served the food and sat down beside Christine. Sometimes he felt foolish eating with her. She ate like a lady, cutting her food into small dainty bites. He didn't have her refined manners. He often ate with his hands, taking bites that were too large. He watched her mouth as she chewed slowly. He promised himself that he would practice his manners. He wanted Christine to have a husband that she could be proud of.

Christine took the napkin that lay across her lap and dabbed her mouth with it. Erik blew out the candle. He watched as the black smoke swirled up towards the sky until it disappeared. He lowered his head to the ground so that he could stare up at the night sky, but he was once again entranced with Christine. At that moment, he couldn't understand why he had ever felt deserving of her love and affection. How could he expect this beautiful creature to love him, a hideous monster? Erik shook his head slightly, trying to free the thought from his mind. He had given her everything. He was there to comfort her after the loss of her father; he was the beauty in her voice. He had done everything he could to deserve her love, and yet she withheld it from him.

Christine didn't notice Erik staring at her. She was gazing up at the stars, imagining that her father was up heaven looking down at her. In her mind she heard the quiet music of a violin. She lowered her head, letting out a deep sigh. She had forgotten how much she missed him. She was so lost after he died, but he sent the Angel of Music to her to watch over her. She cursed the foolishness of her childhood. This man was no angel. Thinking about Erik made the fury buried inside Christine rise to the surface. For so many years he had deceived her, he had frightened her, and now he was keeping her away from her true love. Hot tears began to flow down her cheeks and she was breathing heavily. Erik reached up a hand to her shoulder, but she pushed it away and stood up. She walked quickly towards the cottage door. She tried to appear sturdy, but her whole body was shaking. Erik fell back to the ground and folded his hand on his stomach. That was the second time his advances had been rejected that day. Christine's behavior was truly beginning to tire him. But he had no other choice. He had many years to wear down her defenses. He just needed to remain patient.

Erik was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a loud scream emanate from inside the cottage. He jumped up and raced to the house. It was very dark inside, lit only by the moon. But Erik was used to the darkness. He could see the five men that had invaded his home. One was sitting in a chair, carelessly picking at his nails. Three were standing near to him, and the fourth was across the room. He had an arm wrapped around Christine, pinning her arms to her body, and the other hand held her by the neck. Christine's sobs threw Erik into a rage. He turned to his right and punched one of the men in the stomach. As he turned to throw another punch, someone grabbed his arm and pulled it painfully behind his back. He was pushed to the floor, his head banging on the wood as one of the men placed a foot on his back. The man sitting in the chair still hadn't moved.

"Do calm down, monsieur. We mean you no harm. I come here to offer you my help."

"Who are you? What the hell are you doing here?" Erik sputtered breathlessly, his face turning a deep red.

"Well, I happen to be a former employee of a very important aristocrat. I believe that you knew each other… le Vicomte de Chagny?"

Erik went into a frenzy, throwing his head up violently and kicking at his aggressors. They pulled back harder on his arm.

"I told you that we are here to help you, monsieur. But you are making it extremely difficult."

Erik's body stiffened. "If that's true, then you will release me."

The man in the chair signaled to his companions and they helped Erik to his feet. One of them tried to dust off his shirt, but Erik waved his arm away. The man in the chair stood and approached Erik, extending his hand.

"My name is Gustave. As I said, I used to work for the Vicomte, searching for you actually," Gustave gave a slight laugh.

"Before we continue this conversation, you will release Miss Daae," Erik said threateningly.

"Of course, mon amie."

The man across the room slowly dropped his arms from Christine's body. She hurriedly crossed the room to Erik's side. As much as she despised Erik, she felt safer with him. She grabbed hold of his arm and stood somewhat behind him, peaking her head out to the side so that she would still be able to pay attention.

Erik tilted his head toward her and whispered quietly, "Christine, go to your room. It's late."

"I don't care how late it is. I'm not tired," she retorted.

"Christine," he replied, his voice becoming forceful, "This is a men's conversation. It does not concern you."

Christine was indignant. A men's conversation indeed! "How can you say that this does not concern me? I have every right to know what my fiancée is doing!"

Erik grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to her room. She threw her arms out to brace herself for the fall when he tossed her inside. Christine saw the anger and the hurt in his eyes as he slammed and locked the door. Christine rushed to the door and furiously began pounding with her fists.

"Erik! Erik! Let me out of here!" Christine's sobs died out as she slowly sunk to the floor. Her fists fell to her side and her muscles relaxed. She wiped the tears from her eyes and pressed her ear to the door to listen to the muffled voices.

"The Vicomte is coming in this direction. He was rather far off when I left his party, but it shouldn't be long until he reaches the village and learns about you and your captive as I did."

Christine's heart was beating so loud, she thought it might burst through her chest. Raoul was coming? Had her prayers finally been answered? She wanted to fling out her arms and sing at the top of her voice. Her knight in shining armor was going to rescue her! The first real smile Christine had made in weeks graced her face as she fell backwards onto her bed. She wrapped her quilt around her body, imagining that she was in Raoul's strong embrace. Christine was brought down from her reverie by a sudden thought. The man had said that Raoul was still far off. Erik was not going to sit around and wait for Raoul to find them. Christine jumped off the bed. She had to do something, leave Raoul some sort of clue that she had been there. She reached under her bed to the loose floorboard. She took out the green notebook and the engagement ring. She placed the book on the desk and hid the ring inside. When Raoul read the book, he would know that she still loved him, that she was still waiting for him to save her.

Erik started pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his hair. "How?"

He knocked a chair over, trying to release some of his frustration. That damned boy was like a bloodhound! He was never going to stop searching for them. Erik knew that. He needed a plan, anything. He couldn't spend the rest of his life running from that insolent youth.

"Don't worry monsieur. My colleagues and I are willing to offer our services. We can help you escape from the Vicomte." Gustave interjected.

"How generous of you, monsieur. But I assume that this offer is not for my benefit alone."

"Don't worry about it, mon amie," Gustave answered mischievously, patting Erik on the back. "We can discuss that later."


	10. The Nearness of You

"Monsieur, I beg of you. We have been traveling for hours and there is no town in sight," Maurice pleaded with a sigh.

"Just a little farther, Maurice. I give you my word, if we don't find a town by dawn we can stop and rest."

The search was beginning to take its toll on Raoul. He was always weary, a consequence of constant vigil. It was by sheer will that he was able to continue. If not for the hope of finding Christine, he would have collapsed weeks ago. His handsome face was beginning to show the signs of his restlessness, but his eyes retained their sparkle. The horses trudged on along the muddy road, their hoofs the only sound breaking the silence of the night. Some of the men began nodding off in their saddles, their eyes opening when their chins dropped to their chests.

"Be on your guard men," Maurice called out in a commanding voice. "You never know when our luck will turn around."

"Up ahead monsieur," one of the men called out excitedly, "I see the lights of a village!"

Upon hearing this, Raoul's men regained their vigor. They pushed their horses as fast as they could run, each one dreaming of a good hot meal in their stomachs and a long night's sleep in a soft bed. But their excitement diminished as they approached the center of the town and looked around. Their faces showed their fear and apprehension. Raoul rode up alongside them, noticing their worried expressions.

"What's wrong?" Raoul asked, laughing at their sudden change. "You all look as though you've seen a ghost." Raoul became quiet as he realized the irony of his words. The miracle he had been praying for would have finally come true if they had seen a Ghost.

"Monsieur," Maurice whispered, leaning towards the Vicomte, "this is a thieves' village. By day, the merchants of nearby towns come here to sell their wares. But by night it becomes very dangerous, when the villains come to revel in the sins of the night. We should leave."

"Just a few minutes ago you were begging to rest, now you want to move on? Honestly Maurice, you puzzle me!" Raoul said jokingly. "Look, you and the men can go to the inn and get some sleep. I know had badly some of you need to rest. I'm going to go through the town and see if anyone has information about Christine."

"Monsieur I have to advise against that. It isn't safe here, for any of us," Maurice said, looking around nervously.

"Maurice," Raoul began sadly, "nothing frightens me now, nothing but the thought of never finding her. Now, I am going into that bar," Raoul said, pointing to a dilapidated building which resonated with the shouts of drunken men.

"If there is no way to change your mind, then I will go with you," Maurice replied.

"Thank you mon amie, but that won't be necessary. You look tired, go to bed."

"Those are wise words monsieur. You should consider heeding your own advice." Maurice slapped Raoul on the back and followed the other men towards the inn.

Raoul's heart began to beat faster as he approached the bar. He chided himself for getting so excited. He had gotten his hopes up so many times before, only to have them come crashing to the ground. He felt dozens of eyes on him as he entered the bar; he obviously didn't belong there. Raoul's throat tightened up as he approached the bartender, a man of considerable girth whose scars revealed that he had no misgivings about starting a fight.

Raoul cleared his throat and spoke in a strong voice, "Excuse me monsieur. I would like to ask you a few questions about a man and a woman who may have passed through here."

The bartender gave Raoul a blank stare before turning to serve his other clients. Raoul realized that his manners would do him no good in a place like this. He swung his arm along the bar, causing glasses of whiskey and beer to shatter on the floor. The men who had lost their drinks stood up angrily, knocking their stools over.

Raoul climbed up on the bar and shouted, "Listen up!" The commotion inside the bar quieted as everyone turned to look at him. Raoul reached inside his jacket and pulled the picture of Christine out of his shirt pocket. He held it out in front of him and yelled, "This woman has been taken captive. If anyone has seen her, I want to know about it. We can work out a financial agreement, I can be extremely generous, but time is of the utmost importance. I will be staying at the inn until tomorrow morning. Anyone with information can find me there."

Raoul jumped down and slammed some money on the wet bar. "Buy yourselves another round."

He was walking determinedly towards the inn when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to face two men who were obviously very inebriated. "Can I help you, monsieurs?"

"Oui, monsieur," one of them slurred. "You can help us by handing over your money. And your nice jacket while you're at it."

Raoul put up his hands defensively, "You're drunk. Please monsieurs, go sleep it off before you do something that you'll regret."

One of the men lunged at him. Raoul skillfully stepped to the side and the man fell to the ground. Raoul was in no mood for this. He turned around and began his march to the inn again. The man got up and lunged at Raoul from behind, this time catching him by the leg. Raoul and the drunken man hit the ground together, tumbling over each other. Raoul was able to pin the man down and punch him in the face, knocking him out. Raoul jumped to his feet, his strong muscles taut, ready to fight the man's criminal companion. He furrowed his brow when his eyes connected with those of the other man. Raoul was puzzled by the smile on his face. Raoul looked down at the man's hands and saw that he was grasping a bloody knife. It was then that Raoul felt the pain in his side. He reached his hand down, brought it close to his face and looked at his fingers. The blood drained from his face when he saw the warm, red liquid drip from his hands. The world slowly faded to black as Raoul fell to his knees.

Raoul closed his eyes and let out one last breath, "Christine."


	11. Falling From Grace

A/N: Just a warning- there is a slight sexual situation towards the end of this chapter. If it bothers you, you should be able to skip it and figure out what happened based on the chapters after this.

Christine sat up in her bed, breathing heavily, her whole body covered in a cold sweat. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, trying to remember what she had dreamt that had put her in such a panic. She tried to hold on to the images in her mind, but they escaped from her like water through her fingers. All she was left with was an overwhelming feeling of pain and sadness. The feeling invaded her whole body, causing her to shake uncontrollably. She placed her unsteady feet on the cold floor, leaning on the wall to keep her balance. In the dark, she felt her way to the door. She turned the knob slowly and opened the door just a crack. Her eyes scanned the hallway, looking for the men who had invaded the cottage. A few of them were slumped on the floor, passed out from exhaustion or alcohol. Christine began walking towards the kitchen, carefully stepping over the men along the way. As she neared the kitchen she could hear Erik talking with the man who had identified himself as Gustave. Erik sounded exceedingly nervous.

"What are we still doing here? You said you would help us get away from the Vicomte de Chagny," Erik said Raoul's name with disgust.

"In time, monsieur. Don't worry," Gustave replied calmly, tossing a grape in the air and catching it in his mouth. "You and your… _friend…_ will be out of here long before the Vicomte gets anywhere near this place. Allow her and my men rest for the night."

Christine stepped closer to the room. She was near the doorway when a loud creak sounded out from the floor. Christine tried to jump back into the darkness, but it was too late. Erik had spun around in his chair quickly enough to see her.

"Christine, what are you doing out here?" He sounded like a father who had caught his daughter sneaking into the house in the middle of the night.

Christine absentmindedly ran her hands through her hair, letting them linger at her neck. Her eyes dropped to the floor and she spoke slowly, "Erik, something's wrong. I don't know what it is, but something is terribly wrong. It's Raoul, I can feel it. He needs me." Christine looked up with tears in her eyes, scanning Erik's face for some hint of what he was thinking.

Erik's eyes became dark, and he spoke with a roughness that Christine had never heard in his voice, "How dare you! All this time that I have suffered, and after all that I have suffered at your own hand, all you can think about is him. I don't give a damn what happens to your beloved Vicomte! I hope he burns in hell for what he did to us!" Erik slammed his hands down on the table, causing Christine to jump.

"Erik please, you don't understand…" Christine's tears fell freely as she begged Erik to listen to her.

Erik stood up and grabbed her painfully by the wrists, forcing her to the ground. Christine cried out, but Erik was so lost in his own pain that he didn't seem to care anymore.

"I don't want to hear another word about your fiancé. You belong to me!"

He released her wrists and turned back to his companion. She stood up and wiped the tears from her eyes. Her mind was raging. She belonged to no one! She ran to the next room and grabbed Erik's music box off the table. She threw it, with all the strength she could muster, at a spot on the wall just above Erik's head. He ducked instinctively when he heard the crash. He looked at the shattered pieces of his gift that lay on the floor. He couldn't help but think that it was just like his heart, broken to pieces that could never be put back together. He turned angrily on Christine. All her life, she had shown no regard for his feelings. His mind clouded over as his darker side took control. He was overcome with his emotions, the loneliness and rejection he had felt all his life. He was going to make Christine feel the pain she had caused him for so long.

Christine looked at Erik, and she didn't recognize him anymore. She had seen flashes of this hate in his eyes before; it always vanished as quickly as it appeared. But this time it wasn't going away. For the first time in her life Christine was truly terrified of Erik. She ran as fast as she could towards the front door and in a flash Erik was behind her. She could hear his footsteps getting closer. Her bare feet were cut by the jagged rocks in the dirt road, but Christine took no notice; she was running for her life.

It took only a few moments for Erik to catch up to her. When he grabbed her wrist, he heard a sharp crack. He slapped her hard across the face and she fell to the ground. She raised her arms to her head, trying to protect herself from the blow that she knew she was about to receive. Erik raised his hand, ready to strike her again when Christine turned her head and looked at him. He could already see the bruise beginning to form along her cheekbone and around her eye. His eyes trailed along her arm to see even more bruises, and her limp broken wrist. Christine kept her blazing eyes on Erik's arm, waiting for it to fall down upon her. But it just hung in the air as if suspended by an invisible thread. Erik's eyes filled with tears and he stumbled backwards. He would have joined Christine on the ground, if not for the tree that provided him with support. Erik reached a hand up to his fast-beating heart. What had he almost done? If he hadn't stopped himself then, he might have killed her. How could he have done that to the only person in the world that he had ever loved?

Christine stared at him in wonder. She had no idea what was going through his mind. She looked into his eyes and saw that the madness was now gone. Her breathing slowed as she realized that she was safe again. She reached a hand up to her aching cheek. Her eyes fluttered and she slumped to the ground. She was given a temporary relief from the flurry of emotions that had controlled her since she awoke.

Erik walked towards Christine and gently lifted her up into his arms. Her head rolled onto his shoulder. Even though he knew she couldn't hear him, Erik vowed to her that he would never hurt her again. He carried her back to the house and tenderly laid her in her bed. He pulled the quilt up to her shoulders and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

He turned around to walk back to the kitchen, but Gustave was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, leaning against the molding.

"You showed that little tramp who's boss, didn't you?" he said with a chuckle.

Erik grabbed Gustave by the throat and lifted him slightly off of his feet, "Don't you ever talk about her like that."

"I'm sorry, mon amie. Slip of the tongue. Remember, I'm here to help you," Gustave gasped, his hands trying to pry Erik's from his neck.

Erik gave Gustave a threatening look before releasing him. Gustave stepped back and rubbed his throbbing neck. "I think she needs some medical attention for those wounds, just to be safe."

"Perhaps you are right. Wake one of your men up and send him to the village."

"My men are exhausted, monsieur. I doubt you'd be able to wake them up for all the francs in the country."

"Well then, you go yourself. Make sure you find someone we can trust," Erik replied, stepping past Gustave into the house.

"Not me, monsieur. You know the village better than I do. Besides, I think it would be nice gesture if you went yourself. It will show her that you care for her health and safety. I'm sure she'll appreciate it after what happened."

Erik looked at Gustave warily.

"Monsieur, I give you my word that I will keep careful watch over her," Gustave said, placing a hand on his heart. "And if the Vicomte should somehow manage to find us, I will take care of it," he added.

Erik was hardly reassured by Gustave's promise, but he knew that he should get some help for Christine. She needed to be prepared to make the journey that lay ahead of them.

"I will go as fast as I can. I should be back in a few hours."

Gustave stood by the front window, watching Erik ride off towards the village. Finally, that freak was out of the way. Gustave found himself in a unique position. He had two men, both willing to give anything for him to deliver them this woman. The Vicomte was most assuredly the wealthier of the two, but the masked man would sink to any depths to provide Gustave with what he wanted. If he played his cards right, perhaps he could squeeze both of them dry. No matter. He had plenty of time to think about it and work out a plan. For now, he could claim a small part of his fee.

Christine awoke to the sound of breathing in her ear. The last thing she remembered was waiting in fear for Erik to hit her. But he never did. He had stopped… and she had fainted in the middle of the road. She was in her bed, covered by her red quilt, but what was Erik doing there with her? Christine rolled over and her face met Gustave's. She opened her mouth to scream, but Gustave quickly placed a hand over her trembling lips.

"There's no point in screaming, dear," Gustave smiled, "there's no one around here who cares. I'd let you scream, it wouldn't make any difference, but it breaks my concentration."

Christine reached up her hand to slap him, forgetting about her wrist. Gustave grabbed her hand and bent it back, causing Christine to cry out in pain.

"I'm sure your friend won't mind if you and I spend a little quality time together. I mean, look at you. It's not like he hasn't thought about it. I'm sure he'd understand," Gustave whispered into her ear.

Gustave removed his hand and covered Christine's mouth with a kiss. Christine almost vomited at the sour taste of his tongue invading her mouth. After a few moments he pulled away and Christine took in a deep breath. Hot tears began to roll down her cheeks. Christine felt Gustave's hand move down her body to the bottom of her dress. As he began to pull her skirt up, Christine slowly reached her other hand to the night stand beside her bed. She grasped the solid gold candlestick that she used to read at night and raised it high over Gustave's head. She heard a painful crack as she swung down with full force. Christine felt Gustave's body go slack. She pushed him off of her and heard him thud as he hit the floor. Christine ran to her desk and grabbed her engagement ring. Slipping it onto her finger, she snuck past Gustave's men once again. Outside she carefully mounted a white horse, trying not to use her bad wrist, and started off towards the village. The horse was moving quickly enough, but Christine couldn't go at a full gallop; her body was too sore. She tried to ignore it, thinking only of the possibility that someone in the village could help her find Raoul. She knew she needed to do it quickly. She knew something was wrong with Raoul, and it was getting worse by the minute.


	12. Lost Love

Maurice sat in a cramped room in the inn, lit only by a candle that stood in the corner of the room. Beside him in the bed lay the Vicomte de Chagny. When Maurice found him, he was laying face down in the middle of the road, a dark pool of blood forming around his body. Maurice reached down and put two fingers on Raoul's neck. His skin was cold and he had a slow but steady pulse. Maurice ran as fast as he could to the inn and called out to the other men for help. Together they carried Raoul to Maurice's room while another man ran to fetch a doctor. He burst into the room panting. There was no one in the village that had the capability or the desire to help.

"Damn! There's so much blood! We've got to find a way to stop the bleeding. Put some pressure on the wound," Maurice commanded in a shaking voice. In the short time that he had known this man, they had become rather close. Maurice looked down at Raoul's pale face as the men scurried around the crowded room. He felt like he was losing his best friend. Maurice turned when he heard the door bang against the wall. The owner of the inn, a widower in his forties, had thrown the door open.

"Clear the room out! It'll do him no good, all of you running around like chickens with your heads cut off. You- take this bucket and fill it in the kitchen. There's a fireplace in there that you can use to heat the water up. Not too hot though. You- my room is down the hall. There are some clean sheets in the closet. Bring them to me. The rest of you wait outside. Move!"

The owner approached the bed. "Help me lift him," he signaled to Maurice. "I need to see how bad it is." They rolled Raoul onto his side so that the owner could exam the wound.

"How do you know what to do?" Maurice questioned him as they gently laid Raoul back down.

"In a place like this, you need to know how to take care of yourself," he answered. He lifted the side of his shirt, revealing a long scar that ran along his abdomen.

In a moment the two men returned with the water and the sheets. The owner picked up a sheet. He wrapped in his hands a few times and then tore it down the middle. He submerged one half in the water, using it to mop up the blood and clean Raoul's injury. He took the other half and, with Maurice's help, wrapped it around Raoul's stomach and back several times. He used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"We'll need to change those every few hours."

"Is he going to be alright?" Maurice asked sadly.

"We'll have to wait and find out. You should probably assign shifts to watch over him."

"Thank you for all your help monsieur. I promise that you'll be compensated."

The owner waved his hands through the air dismissively, "There's no need for that. It's nice to help out some decent people. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

After the owner left, silence enveloped the room. It was broken every few seconds only by Raoul's labored breathing. Maurice tilted his chair back on two legs and propped his feet up on the night stand. He ran his hands through his graying hair and his thoughts drifted back to the woman he had loved in his youth. Marguerite Laroque. She was the most hauntingly beautiful woman he had ever seen, with her jet black hair and bright blue eyes. He met her one day at the market in his hometown. They had tried to buy the same book. Maurice felt electricity as their hands met on the smooth cover. They looked into each other's eyes and smiled shyly. He ended up buying it and giving it to her with his name written inside the front cover. From that day on, they were practically inseparable. But theirs was a secret love. Her father was a very wealthy landowner, his was a factory worker. They would never receive the approval that they so desperately desired. One day, Maurice asked Marguerite to marry him. He knew that he couldn't offer her the life she was used to living, but he could give her all of his heart. She happily accepted, taking Maurice in a tight embrace, and they made a plan to meet the next week and wed in secret. Maurice was in the church waiting for her when the time came. After ten minutes, the priest suggested that Maurice go home and wait to hear from her.

"No père, I'm sure she will be here soon," Maurice said confidently. "She's probably just getting ready. You know how women like to look their best."

Another ten minutes went by and she still hadn't arrived. Now Maurice was nervous. What if she wasn't able to get away? Maurice took off his jacket and began the long walk to Marguerite's house. As he was walking, he overheard two women gossiping in the street.

"Did you hear about Monsieur Laroque? It seems he took his whole family, moved away suddenly in the middle of the night last night. No one knows where they've gone."

"Sounds rather scandalous to me," one of them began to laugh.

Moved away? Why? He couldn't have known. Could he? Maurice sprinted as fast as he could all the way to Marguerite's house. He opened the door and ran inside. It was completely empty. The furniture was gone, the paintings taken down from the wall. Maurice dropped his head into his hands and wept. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a small piece of paper. The note was stained with tears. It had obviously been written in haste, the handwriting shaky:

"_My dear Maurice- I'm sorry that this is how we must part. Father has discovered our plan and decided to take me far away from here. He says that he has found someone suitable to make me a bride. Tomorrow we shall be married. _ _Don't try to find me, it will be too late. I don't think I could bear the pain of seeing you after I become the wife of another. Please know that you will always be with me in my heart. Treasure our memories, my love._

_Eternally yours,_

_Marguerite"_

Maurice closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain that the memory brought. He had never loved another woman after Marguerite; he wouldn't let another woman get close to him. He opened his eyes and gazed at Raoul's sleeping form. He knew all too well the pain that the young man felt.

"Don't worry monsieur. I swear to you, I will do whatever it takes to help you find your lost love."


	13. My Wonderful

_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning…_

Christine sang wearily to herself, her voice cracking. The pain that throbbed throughout her whole body combined with the hours she had spent on the road were slowly wearing her down. But as long as she kept singing, she maintained the will to go on. Christine shifted slightly in the saddle, trying to relieve her aching muscles. Shortly after she began her journey she had abandoned the lady-like side saddle for the easier straddle position. Christine really wasn't concerned with appearances anymore. She rocked side to side as the horse trotted along, barely paying attention to where she was going. She closed her eyes to rest them, just for a moment she told herself, and her arm fell to her side. Christine suddenly gasped as she felt Raoul's ring slip off of her finger.

"No, no, no!" she cried out in a panic. She pulled hard on the reins, causing the horse to whinny loudly. She climbed down to search for her ring. Christine scanned the road, but seeing no trace of it, decided that it must have rolled off into the grass. Christine gathered up her skirt, got down on her knees, and frantically ran her hands through the wet grass, feeling for the solid band. She lifted her head from her search when she heard an approaching horse. She stood up and lifted her sore arms to signal the rider to stop. But her eyes widened as she saw the moonlight shine off of a white mask. Christine threw herself to the ground, making her body as flat as possible. She prayed that Erik wouldn't hear her panicked breathing.

"What are you doing out here?" Erik yelled. Christine began to shake as fear seized her heart.

"I guess he didn't tie you up well enough. Gustave needs to learn to take better care of you, or all of his horses will run away," Erik said amusedly as he grabbed the reins of Christine's horse and rubbed his dark muzzle. "Let's get you home." His horse started to gallop again and he was soon out of sight.

Christine stood to her feet and let out a relieved laugh. She couldn't believe how close she had been to getting caught. But she was terribly disappointed at the loss of her horse. The village that would have taken hours to arrive at on horseback now seemed a lifetime away. Christine trudged back to the road, stopping suddenly when she stepped on something sharp. She cursed under her breath and lifted her foot to see what more damage had been done. She looked down to see her ring trodden in the earth. She smiled as she picked it up, scraped off the dirt with her nail, and slid it back on her finger. She held her hand out in front of her, supporting her wrist with the other hand, and admired the ring that shone in the moonlight. It wasn't the ring itself that brought her such joy; it was what the ring represented. It meant that someone really loved her, wanted to have a family and grow old with her. Christine placed her hand over her heart. How it ached to be close to Raoul again.

Christine started off again on her journey, jogging at first. Her breath came in short, painful gasps. She used her good hand to hold up her dress, and after a few minutes the pain began to fade. Christine was numb all over. She slowly began to pick up speed, the wind rushing through her hair. She reached a steep hill and as she neared the peak, she saw a sliver of light shine over the top. A smile began to form on her lips as she got nearer and stepped out of the darkness. Christine stopped hesitantly at the edge of the village. Erik's words returned to her mind- _"This isn't the safest place to be in the dark."_ Christine scanned the village, unsure of what to do or who to trust. She started in one direction, only to stop and go in another. Finally she set her eyes upon the inn. It was the quietest place in the village and so it seemed to Christine the safest.

She hesitantly opened the door and entered the lobby. "Hello?" she called out weakly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "After all you've been through these past months, you're going to be afraid now?" she silently asked herself. She called out again in a strong voice, "Is anyone here?"

Christine heard someone snort loudly in a room down the hall. A man came walking towards her rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry it took me so long," he yawned.

"Oh no. There's no need for apologies," Christine responded politely. "I was wondering if…"

"All the excitement tonight must have worn me out," he interrupted.

"Excitement?"

"Oui. A young man was brought in here earlier with a pretty bad stab wound in his back. He's doing better now, but it will probably take a while to heal completely."

A stab wound? Christine remembered the terrible feeling she had awoken with, that something bad had happened to Raoul. Gustave had said that Raoul would soon near the village. Christine knew it was impossible; fate had long since abandoned her. But she couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, the man the owner described might be her fiancé. Christine's heart began to race. "Please monsieur," she asked in quiet desperation, "do you know his name?"

"Yes, it was the Vicomte de Chagny. Why?"

Christine's heart skipped a beat and her chest tightened. "Raoul."

"Did you say something mademoiselle?"

"Where is he? I need to find him!" Christine was practically screaming.

"He's in the first room on the left, but..." Christine was running towards the room before the owner could finish his sentence. She opened the door without even knocking. In front of her there was a man dozing in a chair, his hat pulled down over his eyes, and there in the bed was Raoul. Christine couldn't believe that after all this time she was finally reunited with her sweet fiancé. All the hopes and fears that she had kept hidden away for the last few months of her life were rising to the surface. She slowly approached the bed and sat down beside Raoul. She ran her trembling hands down his face, tracing the curves with her fingers. The handsome youth she knew had changed, but the sight of him produced the same sense of love and safety that it always had. She pushed a few stray strands of golden hair from his eyes. She leaned down to move closer to him, accidentally putting her weight on her broken wrist. Christine yelled out in pain.

Suddenly the man in the chair awoke and jumped forward, tossing his chair back. "What the hell!"

His eyes focused on Christine and he recognized her immediately; Raoul had shown him her picture innumerable times. "Mademoiselle, you have no idea how happy I am to see you!" Maurice gushed, pulling Christine into a hug. When he let her go, Christine gave him a puzzled look.

"Oh, forgive me," he said quickly, backing away slightly and nervously playing with the hat he held in his hands. "My name is Maurice. I am a companion of your fiancé. I've heard so much about you, I feel like I practically know you myself."

Christine placed a hand over mouth, trying to conceal her giggle at Maurice's outburst.

"May I ask, Mademoiselle, how you were able to escape and find us here?" Maurice questioned.

"I believe that the story of my capture and escape can wait for another time," Christine answered drowsily.

"Of course mademoiselle," Maurice responded soothingly, "I will keep guard outside the door. You should get some rest."  
"Thank you Maurice," Christine said, giving Maurice's arm a gentle squeeze.

Maurice bowed to Christine, placed a kiss on her hand, and shut the door behind him. Christine curled up in the bed alongside Raoul. She lightly kissed his lips and whispered "I love you" into his ear. She lifted his arm up and wrapped it around her, laying her head on his shoulder. She gently stroked his hand as her eyes closed in sleep. Next to her true love, Christine's soul finally felt complete and at peace. That night Christine dreamt of the hope that morning would bring for her and her love.


	14. Sweet Release

Erik dismounted his horse and tied it up, along with Gustave's horse that he had found on the road. He dismally walked to the front door of his cottage, feeling defeated. He hadn't found anyone in the village that he could convince to help Christine. He decided that they would have to travel carefully until they could get her some medical attention. And once they were far enough way, Erik and Gustave could come up with a plan to permanently force Raoul out of Christine's life. Then Erik would have the opportunity to atone for all the pain that he had inflicted upon her. She would learn to love him again, once her "childhood sweetheart" was out of the way forever. As Erik approached the house he noticed that it was unusually dark inside. He listened carefully but could hear nothing, save for the rustle of the leaves on the trees. Erik easily made his way through the house, his feet carrying him silently to Christine's room. Lying unconscious on the floor was Gustave; Christine was nowhere in sight. Erik lifted Gustave to his feet and began to shake him violently.

"What have you done! Where is she!" Erik's furious shouts were more deafening and terrifying than the roar of a lion.

Gustave's eyes fluttered open and he let out a soft moan. He tried to rub away the dull pain in his head. He blinked his eyes hard, trying to bring the fuzzy room into focus, and looked into the eyes of the man who held him by the collar. In those cold eyes, Gustave saw nothing. Erik's face was devoid of all human emotion. Gustave feared what would happen to him if this demon found out what he had tried to do. In his mind he quickly formulated a story.

"Monsieur? What is going on?" he asked innocently.

"Where the hell is Christine?" Erik asked frantically.

"I came in here to check on her. It was pitch black. I…I called out her name. Something hit me in the back of the head. That's the last thing I remember."

Erik eyed him suspiciously. "I'm tired of being lied to. Tell me what happened."

Gustave looked around nervously, "That's the truth mon amie."

"I have enough patience to extract the truth from you monsieur. Do not play games with me," Erik said callously.

"Alright, alright. I came in here and I, er, I mean we…" Gustave stumbled over his words.

"For the love of God, stop stalling and tell me what happened!"

"Look, I was just trying to have a little fun. I would've stopped before I let it get too far. How was I supposed to know she could fight back?" Gustave exclaimed.

Erik roughly threw Gustave down onto the floor. "Take your men and get the hell out of my house."

Gustave scrambled to his feet and rushed down the hall, yelling to his men to wake up. They stumbled through the cottage, knocking over tables and furniture. In a moment they were all outside hurriedly mounting their horses. Gustave jumped onto his horse, grateful to be leaving unharmed. He was sure when he told Erik what he had done that he would be torn limb from limb, but the monster had let him go. Perhaps he was more compassionate than Gustave had originally thought. Too bad that would be his downfall; now Gustave would surely betray him to the Vicomte. Gustave kicked his horse and it started to run, but he suddenly felt something tighten around his neck. He was pulled backwards off of his horse and landed hard on his back. His hands flew to his neck as he struggled violently to free himself. Erik smiled an evil grin as he pulled the noose of his Punjab lasso tighter around Gustave's neck.

Erik leaned down to Gustave's ear and whispered, "See where all your wickedness has led you? Your life cut short because of your own evil deeds. It's a rather undignified end to such an illustrious man, I think. At the very least, a terribly painful end. In your last moments of life, you're going to think about what you did to her, and to me."

Gustave's desperate attempts to escape were slowly diminishing as his life slipped away. After a few moments, his body went limp. Erik removed his lasso from Gustave's neck and went inside. In his room there was a carved oak chest. Erik lifted the lid and removed a sword, the handle formed in the shape of a skull. He knew that Raoul was not going to give Christine up without a fight. Erik pulled the sword slightly out of the sheath to examine how sharp it was. He remembered the last time he had used it, a battle lost in a graveyard. Things would end up differently this time. He forcefully thrust the sword back into the sheath and ran outside to his jet black horse. In one swift movement he jumped into the saddle.

"So this is it Vicomte. Only one of us can have her heart. It ends now."


	15. Lost and Found

Christine woke up in Raoul's strong embrace. She looked up in amazement at his smiling face and bright eyes. He was no longer the pale, worn-out man she had seen last night.

"Raoul! You're awake! Why didn't you wake me up too?" Christine didn't want to miss a single minute spent with Raoul. Her ordeal had made her realize how fleeting time is and that she should cherish the precious few moments that they shared.

"You looked so peaceful; I couldn't bear to steal you from your dreams," he said, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"This is my dream," she replied sweetly, her eyes looking deeply into his.

Christine tried to run a hand through her hair, only to find it caught in a tangled mess. She realized how she must look with her dirty face; she didn't want to look like this when Raoul first laid eyes on her again. Embarrassed, she tried to hide her face by pulling the blanket up to just below her eyes.

"What are you doing?" Raoul chuckled, taking her hand from her face and planting a kiss on it.

"Oh Raoul, I must look simply awful!"

"Never. You always look beautiful to me," he said softly.

Christine smiled shyly. She could have stayed like this all day, but she knew that Erik had probably arrived home and found that she was missing. She could picture his furious outburst, like the rage she had seen in him when she broke his music box. Christine was sure that he would waste no time in beginning the search for them. Christine hated feeling like the lion's prey, stalked by a vicious beast she couldn't control. The worst part was knowing that she probably wouldn't even see it coming. But now that Raoul was awake, they could start running, together. Sadly she pried herself from Raoul's arms. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the window, wondering if they would ever again have a moment's respite from fear. When she turned her head, Raoul caught a glimpse of the bruises that ran across her cheek. He brought his hand up to her chin and gently turned her face toward him.

"Did he do this to you?" Raoul asked angrily through clenched teeth.

Christine had forgotten about the marks Erik had left on her face. She put her hand up to her cheek, "It's nothing Raoul. I'm fine," she said nervously.

"You're not using your left hand; it's been hanging limply ever since you awoke," he noted.

Christine gave Raoul a small smile, "I said I was fine."

"How could he do something like this? I knew he was a monster, but I didn't know he was capable of hurting you. I could kill him for this," Raoul whispered threateningly. He sat up quickly, wincing and grabbing his side.

Christine protectively lowered him back down on the bed, "You'll do nothing of the sort. You are in no shape to fight anyone. You rest. I'll speak to Maurice and we'll be leaving here as fast as we can."

Raoul shut his eyes tightly. He hadn't been able to protect her before, and he couldn't do it now. Christine leaned down and gently kissed Raoul's lips. She ran her hands through his hair. Raoul was beaming, his heart revived by the warm feeling of Christine's mouth upon his.

"Everything's going to be ok. I'll be right back." Christine backed out of the room, keeping her eyes on Raoul's smiling face.

"Good morning mademoiselle!" Maurice said cheerfully behind her.

"You're in a rather good mood, aren't you Maurice?" Christine remarked with a happy tone.

"Of course! It's a beautiful morning, the sun is shining, and we've found the lovely lady we've spent nearly a year searching for… well, actually you found us, but that's beside the point. How could life be any better?"

"Well Raoul is awake now. So I was hoping that we could leave as soon as possible. I fear that Erik will be coming after us shortly and I'd rather not be here."

"I'll go prepare the horses. We can leave in a few minutes."

"Merci," Christine said, breaking out in an uncontrollable smile despite the danger she knew they faced.

When Christine entered Raoul's room again, he was sitting on the edge of the bed putting his shirt on. He painfully lifted his arms over his head and pulled the shirt down. He stood up and strapped a sword around his waist.

Christine leaned up against the door, crossing her arms over her chest. "What are you going to do with that?" she asked playfully.

"You never know when it will come in handy," Raoul replied with a roguish smile.

Christine smiled and shook her head lightheartedly. "Maurice is preparing the horses. Let's go, Monsieur Warrior."

Raoul followed her out the door, but stopped suddenly in the hallway.

"What's wrong?"

"I think I forgot something," Raoul answered with a puzzled look, patting his shirt and pockets. "Oh, that's right," he said as he took Christine into his arms and kissed her passionately. Christine's whole body felt like it was on fire. She had almost forgotten what it felt like when Raoul pulled her tightly against him and met her passion with his own. She was glad to know that the months of isolation had not numbed her emotions. When their lips parted, Christine looked up into Raoul's sparkling eyes.

"I missed you," he said sincerely.

"Monsieur, mademoiselle," Maurice interrupted, "I hate to ruin the moment, but we really should be leaving. The Vicomte should heal up before he faces the Phantom."

Christine turned to Maurice puzzled, "Faces the Phantom?"

"Let's not talk about it now," Raoul interjected.

"No Raoul, I think now is the time to talk about it," Christine turned on him angrily. "What are you going to do?"

"I…I don't know," he answered, his arms falling resignedly at his sides. "We have to do _something_ Christine. He won't ever let us be. You know that."

"I don't want to see him harmed, Raoul."

"How can you say that after everything he's done to you, to us?"

"I can't explain it. He was there to comfort me when I lost my father…"

"He lied to you," Raoul said, his face set like stone.

"I know," Christine said, agitated.

Raoul's face softened. "Christine," he said, taking her hands in his, "help me understand."

"It's not that I don't love you Raoul. I do, with all my heart. But he's suffered for so long. I can't bear to add to his pain."

"We'll work something out. I promise. But now is not the time," Raoul said, leading Christine to her horse.

"What are we going to do? He'll find us wherever we go," Christine said, moving into Raoul's arms.

Maurice cleared his throat, "I humbly offer my home until we work something else out. It's not very elegant, but I'm sure he won't look there. It should buy us some time."

"Thank you Maurice. I don't know what I've done to deserve such loyalty," Raoul said while helping Christine mount her horse. Once Raoul had climbed into his saddle, they followed Maurice down the road. Raoul kept his protective eyes on Christine. He was overjoyed to have her back, but his mind was clouded with the pleas she had made for the Phantom. How was he going to protect Christine from Erik without turning her against him?


	16. Time to Heal

A/N: I'm so excited about all the reviews, really I am, but I felt the need to warn some of you. You seem to be holding out for some sort of E/C happy ending…that's not where this story is going. I put in the summary that it's R/C. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that you're reading. But if you get to the end and decide that you want to hurt me, well that's just not good for anybody. So if you think you can handle it, read on. If R/C is gonna leave you pulling your hair out and sending me threatening messages, maybe you should just give up here.

As Christine stood in Maurice's tiny kitchen washing the dishes from that evening's dinner, her mind wandered back over the events of the past two months. Maurice wasn't merely being modest about his home; it really wasn't very well kept-up. Christine attributed that to the fact that Maurice was a man living alone. Despite the small space available to them, Maurice had done everything possible to make Raoul and Christine comfortable. He gave his bedroom to them, opting to sleep on the couch. They had tried to refuse, but Maurice couldn't be persuaded. For the first few weeks he prepared all their meals for them. He was a terrible cook, often burning whatever he attempted to make, but Raoul and Christine were appreciative of the gesture.

Christine had acted as a nurse to Raoul, tending to his wounded side. She had the most difficulty just trying to get him to rest and allow himself to heal. For the first few nights Raoul wouldn't sleep; he stayed awake protectively watching over her. He was terrified that she would somehow be gone when he opened his eyes again. Maurice finally convinced him that he would be of no use to Christine if he didn't get better. If not for Maurice, Christine didn't know how they would have survived.

For the first week or so, they spent most of their time in a tense state of wariness, like sailors waiting for a terrible storm. But as time passed, a comfortable sense of safety returned to them and they were able to return somewhat to leading normal lives. They spent many nights sitting around the table and talking long after dinner was over. Sometimes they would talk about nothing in particular, enjoying the idle chatter of good friends. But there were times when they leaned on each other to talk about more difficult subjects. Christine remembered the night she decided to tell Raoul and Maurice what had happened to her. That night she finally broke down the wall that she had built to protect herself from the dangers of her own memory. For the longest time, she hadn't spoken a word about her time with Erik in the cottage; she dared not even think about. Each night she prayed that as she slept, the memories wouldn't invade her dreams. Raoul and Maurice had been patient, waiting until she was ready to tell the story from her perspective. Her voice broke with emotion as she recounted the details of her imprisonment and escape. Raoul supportively rubbed her shoulders, every so often planting light kisses on her temple; Maurice placed a hand on top of hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. After a few moments of silence, Christine raised her head, smiling through her tears. She was thankful for the two good men she now had in her life. They had formed a close, if not strange, family.

Christine put the last plate away in the cupboard and walked into the living room where Maurice was reading the paper. "Maurice, what are you still doing up?"

"I was just catching up on the news."

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," Christine said, sitting on the arm of his chair.

"What is that, chéri?" he asked absentmindedly.

"You're looking to see if there was any mention of him."

"Any mention of whom?" Maurice questioned, not looking up from the newspaper.

"Please don't put on an act, Maurice," Christine responded, looking down at her hands in her lap.

"I only wish to ensure your safety, Mademoiselle," Maurice said, lowering his paper to look in her eyes.

"I appreciate your concern, Maurice. But you really needn't bother. Erik is much too intelligent to allow himself to be found like that. All we can do is try to be prepared for when he reveals himself. Besides, he might not even return for me," she added, trying mostly to convince herself.

"Just trying to be cautious," he replied, returning to his reading.

"I'm going to bed now. Goodnight Maurice," Christine said, leaning down and planting a kiss on his cheek.

She walked down the short hallway to the room that she shared with Raoul. He was sitting in the bed reading a musty old book, one of the few that Maurice owned.

"Doesn't anyone sleep around here?" Christine asked, feigning exasperation.

Raoul smiled at her, "I was waiting for you. You know I can't sleep when you're not beside me."

"You'll never have to worry about that again," Christine said, pulling back the sheets and joining him. Raoul closed the book and set it down on the night stand beside him. He leaned over and blew out the candle, then scooted alongside Christine, draping his arm over her waist.

"Raoul," Christine asked quietly, "When are we going to get married?"

Raoul sighed, "Do you really think it's a good idea to get married with _him_ still looking for us?"

Christine closed her eyes. She understood Raoul's pain, but she still couldn't bear the resentment in his voice when he said "him". "Well, I've been thinking," Christine began, "Maybe if we get married, he'll stop looking for us. He'll know that I chose you and that he can't separate us… I just want to find a way out of this without anyone getting hurt."

"Perhaps you're right." Raoul lifted himself on his arms, looking down at Christine. She had changed so much since he had last seen her. The naïve girl he had asked to marry him was now a strong, assertive woman. He knew that he was different as well; he had matured just as she had. It wasn't a bad change, he simply wished it could have come about under different circumstances. Raoul looked into her pleading eyes. Despite his doubts about her idea, he knew that he couldn't deny her. "Alright then, it's settled. When does my lovely fiancée want to get married?"

Christine's eyes grew wide with excitement. "Let's get married next week, the beginning of spring. I think it's a rather lovely thought, starting our lives together in the season of new beginnings. I'd simply adore an outdoor wedding, and I know the perfect place. There's this little spot beside a river, surrounded by trees and flowers. It will be so romantic!"

"Christine, it sounds wonderful," Raoul agreed, caressing her face. "Now, we'll need to find a priest to perform the ceremony."

"I'll ask Maurice to go to the nearby church in the morning." After a moment's pause, she added, "Perhaps I'll also ask him to go to the Opera Populaire, to tell Meg and Madame Giry about the wedding. I'd so love for them to go! Of course I'll need to buy a dress. Something simple," Christine titled her head to the side, envisioning in her mind what she wanted her wedding gown to look like.

"You'll look perfect, whatever you wear," Raoul told her, wrapping her fingers in his.

"You're too sweet to me," Christine said, giving Raoul a quick kiss. "I'm so excited now! I don't know how I'll ever get to sleep." Christine leaned her faced in towards Raoul's and asked him to sing to her.

Christine lay her head down on her pillow and let Raoul's melodic voice lull her into a deep sleep.

_Say you need me with you, here beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go too. Christine, that's all I ask of you…_

Christine awoke early the next morning. She sat up in bed and stretched out her arms. For a moment she simply sat there and let the sun shine on her face. Her favorite time was just at dawn, when Raoul lay beside her still asleep. She loved listening to the sound of him breathing in the silence of daybreak. Christine took a deep breath and placed her feet on the wooden floor. She put on a light robe and pulled back her thick curls with a jeweled clip.

Maurice and Raoul awoke to the aroma of breakfast that wafted through the house. They went into the kitchen where Christine had set three places at the table. In the center was a crystal vase with fresh-picked purple lilies.

"Good morning, monsieurs. I hope you're both hungry," Christine said cheerily, filling the plates with food.

"Christine, this looks delicious. What am I going to eat when you two leave here?" Maurice said, shaking out his napkin and laying it in his lap.

"Well mon amie, you'll just have to visit us as often as possible," Raoul responded.

"You better be careful what you say. You may never be able to get rid of me," Maurice said with a chuckle.

"Oh Maurice, I almost forgot," Christine said, joining them at the table, "I was wondering if you could find a priest who will marry us. Raoul and I decided that we're going to have an outdoor wedding next week, so he'll have to be willing to meet us somewhere."

"I knew a priest some time ago," Maurice said quietly, looking down at his plate. He cleared his throat and spoke up, "I'm sure I could find him and convince him to perform the ceremony."

"Thank you so much Maurice. Would it also be possible for you to go to my friends at the Opera Populaire, Meg and Madame Giry, and invite them to come? I've missed them so much. I'm sure they would be terribly offended if I didn't ask them to attend."

"Of course mademoiselle."

"While you're gone I can take Christine to look at wedding gowns."

Christine looked at Raoul indignantly, "You most certainly will not! It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding gown before the ceremony. And the last thing we need is more bad luck."

"Alright, but let me find someone to accompany you," Raoul conceded. He hated the idea of Christine leaving the house without him, but he knew how strong-willed she was. If she wanted to find a dress without him, she would do it one way or another.

"The man who lives next door used to be a detective. We're old friends. I'm sure he'd be more than willing to help a beautiful lady. I'll speak to him before I leave."

"Thank you, Maurice," Raoul said gratefully.

Maurice wiped his mouth with the napkin and stood up from his chair. "Well, I'm off. I shall return shortly. Good luck with your search chèri," Maurice said, kissing the top of Christine's head.

After Maurice left, Christine stood and put all the dirty dishes in the sink. She walked over to Raoul and put her arms around his neck.

"I'll be back soon. Try not to worry."

"Just promise me that you'll be careful. I don't know how I'd survive if I lost you again," Raoul said, overwhelming sadness in his voice.

Christine took Raoul's face in her hands and gave him a long kiss. For a moment they just stood in the middle of the room and looked in each other's eyes. Finally Christine released Raoul and walked to the door.

"Try not to get into trouble while I'm gone," she called back playfully. She went to out to her horse where her escort was waiting. Christine waved to Raoul one last time before riding off to find the perfect dress.

Elsewhere Maurice was walking up the steps of the Opera Populaire. He was amazed at the elegance of the building; he had never seen anything like it. A member of the chorus led him to Madame Giry's room. He introduced himself as a friend of the Vicomte and his fiancée. Madame Giry invited him inside and sent someone to get Meg. Madame Giry offered him a seat and frantically began to ask questions about Christine. Maurice assured her that she was safe and healthy. Once Meg arrived Maurice relayed Christine's message. He told them that she and Raoul were to marry the next week. He would send someone on the morning of the wedding to lead them to the ceremony.

In the dark shadows where demons lurk, something stirred at the sound of Christine's name. Maurice looked in the direction of the rustle, but saw nothing. As he left the Opera house he couldn't shake the chill that invaded his body, the feeling that something had been watching him.


	17. Till Death Do Us Part

Christine took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach. The day she had dreamed of since she was a little girl was finally here. She stood in front of the full length mirror admiring the gown she had chosen. It was a modest ivory-white dress that flattered her slim figure. The thick straps hung loosely off her shoulders and the skirt fanned out at the bottom. But Christine's favorite part was the beaded flowers that trimmed the bottom and ran along the short train. Christine twirled around, hypnotized by the way her dressed flowed. She wished her father could be here to see her. She would give anything for him to walk her down the aisle and tell her that he loved her. Christine longingly thought about the days they had spent together at the house by the sea. How he would tell her stories and play his violin while she fell asleep. Christine looked down at her hands and remembered how they spent the days building sand castles. One day stood out above all others in her memory.

That day was unusually cold for summer. The sky was grey, filled with dark, ominous clouds. Christine had gone to the beach by herself, sneaking out in the early morning before her father awoke. She spent all day building the perfect castle. Without warning, a large wave came crashing onto the shore, obliterating her fragile creation. Her lower lip began to quiver and her tears mingled with the light rain that began to fall. Christine felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at the sympathetic face of a young boy, the boy who had rescued her scarf just the other day. He knelt down beside her and began gathering sand up into a mound. Little by little he helped her rebuild what had been destroyed. He stayed by her side until it was finished, despite the cold and the rain. As they walked back to the house, he put his coat around her shoulders and took his hand in hers. She knew that day that she loved him. They shared the innocent love of children.

Christine smiled at the memory. Many things had changed since then, but Raoul always had her heart. Christine smiled thinking of how even their love had changed. It had deepened and matured. It was something that existed deep in their souls, forever binding them to one another. Christine looked at her face in the mirror, pulling herself from the memories of the past. Her head turned quickly when she heard someone opening the door. She ran over and threw her body against it, slamming it shut.

"Who's there?"

"Christine, it's me. What are you doing?" Raoul asked, trying to suppress a laugh.

"Raoul, you know you can't see me!"

"I know. I… I just wanted to tell you that I'm leaving now. I'll be waiting for you with the priest."

"Alright. I'll see you soon," Christine answered quickly.

"Christine…" he said hesitantly.

"Yes?" she asked, biting her bottom lip slightly.

"I love you."

Christine smiled brightly, "I love you too."

Raoul let out the breath he had been holding in and a relieved smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He had been worried that they were rushing into the wedding; that perhaps Christine had suggested it simply as a way to escape from the Phantom. Raoul walked confidently to the front door, leaving behind his irrational thoughts. Christine was marrying him because she loved him. She wasn't going to change her mind. Soon they would be husband and wife. Raoul mounted his horse, careful not to get his suit dirty. He looked back at the house where Maurice stood in the doorway.

"Keep an eye on her for me, Maurice."

"Of course, mon amie. We will see you shortly."

Raoul nodded to his friend and rode away.

Maurice knocked on Christine's door and opened it, finding her nervously adjusting her dress.

"Chéri," he said, picking her veil up off of the bed and placing it on her head, "You look perfect. He will be amazed; he loves you with all his heart."

Maurice reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He extended his hand and offered it to Christine.

"What's this?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously and taking the box from him.

Maurice was nervously wringing his hands behind his back, "Well…I saw it in the window of a shop yesterday and I couldn't resist."

Christine slowly lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a heart-shaped diamond pendant on a silver chain. She turned and hugged Maurice tightly.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it Maurice. Thank you so much. You didn't have to do this," she said, slowly shaking her head.

"Well," he replied, reaching into the box and placing the chain around Christine's neck, "I know you had something old, your mother's veil. And you had something borrowed, Meg's pearl earrings. And the stone of your engagement ring is blue. So all you needed…" he trailed off, securing the clasp at the back of her neck.

For a moment, Maurice and Christine stood in front of the mirror, gazing at her reflection. Christine wrapped her hand around the pendant. Maurice caught her eye in the mirror, "Let's not keep your fiancé waiting."

Maurice offered Christine his hand and helped her up into the carriage. It was black, covered in pink and white roses. Christine spread her dress around her, running her hands along it to smooth out the wrinkles. Maurice shook the reins and the horse began to trot. Christine closed her eyes and raised her head, savoring the fragrance that floated on the spring air. It was the perfect day for a wedding. But for Christine, any day would be perfect as long as Raoul was waiting for her at the end of the aisle.

It wasn't a very long ride to the spot Christine had chosen. She remembered it from a time Madame Giry had taken her and Meg on a picnic when they were younger. It was so beautiful that Christine had immediately fallen in love with it.

The carriage slowed to a stop. Up ahead of her, Christine saw her dear friends. Madame Giry was already crying, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Meg gave her hand a gentle squeeze. The priest was a very old, but friendly looking man. Maurice looked back at her and Christine smiled.

"I'm so glad you're here to share this day with us, Maurice. I can't thank you enough for all that you've done."

"I can't say that my reasons were entirely unselfish. I love the pleasure of your company, and of course there was the food," he said with a chuckle. "I know you and Raoul will be very happy together," he added in a serious tone.

Christine's heart stopped when she turned her head and saw Raoul. She had never seen him look happier; a crooked smile crossed his face. He could hardly control his excitement. He rolled onto his tiptoes and rolled back down, looking all around him. His eyes suddenly fell upon Christine and he became very still. The smile disappeared from his face; he seemed to be in complete awe. She flashed him a smile and his eyes lit up.

Maurice jumped down and walked to where Christine sat. He helped her down from the carriage and picked up the bouquet of white roses that lay on the seat. He handed her the flowers and offered him her arm. They slowly began to walk towards Raoul and the priest. With each step, Christine's heart beat faster. In a few moments, Raoul would be her husband. They could finally start the life she knew they were destined to live.

Christine became confused when Raoul began running towards her, horror and anger mingled on his face. She felt Maurice fall to the ground. When she looked down she saw that there was a rope pulled around his neck. She turned in fear and came face to face with Erik. Christine tried to scream, but terror had seized her voice. Suddenly Erik pulled out his sword and stabbed Maurice in the back, permanently stopping his attempt to escape. Christine cringed at the sound of cold steel piercing human flesh.

Further away, the priest stood in shock, unsure of what to do. Madame Giry was holding Meg protectively, screaming at Erik to stop. Christine stood shaking, her eyes filled with tears. She stared down at Maurice's lifeless body, unable to move.

Raoul rushed forward in a rage, drawing his sword. He took a few reckless swings, giving Erik the opportunity to slash his arm. Christine cried out when she saw the blood drip from Raoul's arm. "Erik stop this!" she screamed frantically.

Erik raised his sword, preparing to bring it down on Raoul's shoulder. Raoul lifted his sword above his head, halting Erik's arms in the air. Erik was pushing down with such force that Raoul needed both hands to keep the sword away from his body. Raoul slowly brought his arms down until he and Erik were face to face.

"Did you really think you could hide her from me? She is mine! There's nowhere you can take her that I won't find her."

Raoul pushed forward with all his might, forcing Erik to stumble backwards. Raoul raised his sword, prepared to attack.

"She'll never love you like she loves me. Deep down inside, you know that," Erik hissed.

Every word that Erik spoke caused Raoul to hate him even more. Raoul's blood was boiling.

Erik lunged at Raoul, but he was able to roll to the side, avoiding the deadly blow. Erik stumbled forward and Raoul slashed his leg. Erik cried out in pain and fell to the ground. He reached over to grab the sword he had dropped, but Raoul kicked it away. Erik sat on the ground, grabbing the back of his thigh and panting heavily. He glared up at Raoul with contempt. Raoul raised his sword to Erik's throat. "No matter what you do, you can't force her to love you. You will never harm her or anyone else again, you murdering son of a bitch," Raoul snarled.

"Raoul no!" Christine yelled, running to his side. She placed a hand over his wound and spoke quietly, "You're not like him. You're not a killer, Raoul. We'll take him to the police. Let them deal with him."

Raoul kept his eyes on Erik, his jaw clenched. After a moment, his face softened. "Alright my love. I'll do as you ask. Madame Giry, would you please bring me the lasso. We can bind him with it for now."

"Oui monsieur," she answered softly, looking on Erik with pity.

Raoul turned his head to speak to Christine, taking his eyes off of Erik for just a moment. But a moment was all he needed. Erik kicked Raoul's hand with all the force he could, causing Raoul to drop the sword. It rolled to the bank of the river, almost falling in.

"Christine run!" Raoul yelled as he dove to recapture his sword. He and Erik both grabbed hold of it at the same time. They struggled for control, kicking and rolling in the dirt. Raoul punched Erik in the face, but he held firmly to the sword. Erik reached out and dug his fingers into Raoul's wound. Raoul screamed and his grip on the sword loosened. Erik pulled it from his hand and jumped to his feet. Raoul tried to back away, but he felt his hand fall into the cold water. There was no where else for him to go.

Erik stood over him ominously, "Only one of us can have her Vicomte. She's the only person in the world I've ever loved. You stole her from me!"

Christine ran over and stood in front of Raoul, her arms protectively stretched out to the side. "Erik I'm begging you, please don't do this," she cried desperately.

Erik grabbed her around the waist and pulled her up against him, "I have forgiven you for your betrayal, Christine. Please don't try my patience."

She beat her fists against his chest furiously, "Let me go, you…you monster!"

Erik pushed her to the side. "It's time to make your last goodbyes." Erik put his sword to Raoul's throat.

"Christine, always remember that I love you," Raoul said, choking back tears.

"Please, just let him be. I'll go with you. Anywhere you want. I'll go willingly," Christine pleaded.

"I'm afraid that will never do mon amour. Your fiancé will not accept that. There's only one way for us to be happy. We have to get rid of him. I know it's hard now, but the pain will fade. In time, you'll understand that it was for the best," he answered in a gentle voice.

Raoul drew in a breath, prepared for the strike that would end his life. He looked into Christine's crying eyes one last time. Suddenly a shot rang out, echoing through the field. Everyone looked around, trying to figure out where the shot had come from. Raoul saw Maurice lying on his stomach, a gun in his outstretched hand. He gave them a smile before his eyes closed and his head and arm hit the ground again. Christine and Raoul turned their eyes to Erik. He was staring straight ahead, his body wavering. His arm dropped and the sword fell from his hand. He raised an unsteady hand to his stomach. He looked down at the sticky red liquid that covered his gloved hand. He began to stumble forward and Christine moved to catch him, his arm slipping through her hands. As he fell forward towards the water, he whispered, "I love you."

Christine stood in shock, her hand covering her open mouth, staring down into the water where Erik fell. She could see nothing, save for the ripples that faded out and became one with the river. No, it was impossible. Angels can't die. The pain pooled in Christine's stomach. It was like losing her father all over again. Raoul stood and slowly approached her, unsure of what to do. He placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked into his face. Just like the little boy who had consoled her at the beach, her fiancé stood before her with a warm, reassuring gaze. The love she saw in his eyes convinced Christine that everything was going to be alright. She would let go of the past and live a happy life with Raoul, but right at that moment she just wanted to cry. She moved into Raoul's open arms and cried into his shoulder. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead.

"I'm here, mon amour. Don't worry," Raoul whispered gently.

Erik silently swam to the bank of the river. He looked up at Raoul and Christine and was struck by what he saw. She was grieving…for him. Christine really did love him! But he saw how she was clinging to Raoul, and realized how much she needed him. She loved Raoul, and he could give her everything that Erik never could. For the first time in his life, Erik felt compassion for someone else. Christine's love filled his empty heart, bringing it to life. Now all he wanted was for her to be happy, a luxury she could never have if he tried to force himself into her life. She had Raoul, and that was enough. Erik longingly looked at her once last time, and let himself sink beneath the murky water.

A/N: Ok, we're not done yet. There's one more chapter left. But in the meantime, why don't you hit that little button and tell me what you thought!


	18. Moving Forward

Christine removed her black gloves to wipe the tears from her eyes. It had been three days since the tragedy that had occurred at her and Raoul's doomed secret wedding. Raoul stood beside her, hanging his head. He was trying to hide the pain, but Christine knew how deeply he had been affected. She took his hand in hers and gave it a firm squeeze. Christine's eyes wandered to the blue sky above her. She thought it strange that the sun could shine so brightly on such a sad day. How could the birds sing joyously when a man lay before them, dead? Christine heard Raoul cough and she returned her attention to the priest.

"Dust thou art, to dust returnest."

Raoul and Christine each picked up a handful of dirt and threw it on the coffin that contained their dear friend. The day after he had been killed, Raoul and Christine placed an ad in the newspaper announcing the funeral. But she and Raoul were the only ones who had attended. Christine couldn't believe that such a caring and generous man could have lived his life so alone.

When the ceremony ended, Raoul and Christine began to walk back to their carriage, Christine's hand in the crook of Raoul's arm. Christine was distracted by something she saw in the distance. On a dirt road not far from the cemetery, a woman sat peering out of the window of her carriage. She had the darkest hair Christine had ever seen, and piercing eyes that seemed overwhelmed with sorrow. Raoul lifted Christine up into their carriage, but she kept her eyes on the captivating woman. As their carriage began to pull away, Christine saw the woman stagger towards Maurice's grave with a bunch of flowers in her hand.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Raoul asked as their carriage slowed to a stop.

"I'm sure. But I think I should go alone."

"Whatever you wish."

Christine opened the door and walked somberly to the river. In her hand she held a single red rose. As she approached the spot where she had last seen her Angel of Music, she let the tears fall freely.

"I forgive you," she whispered into the wind, throwing the rose into the water. She stood and watched it until it floated out of sight. Christine took a deep breath, and for the first time she felt like her soul was free. It was time for her to let go of the past.

For a long time, Raoul and Christine rode in silence. Raoul stared out the window at the scenery that passed by them; Christine looked down at her empty hands.

"Do you love him?" Raoul asked, his voice full of pain.

"What?"

"I was thinking about what he said, at the wedding. That you could never love me the way you love him. And I couldn't understand how you could feel so much compassion for him after everything he's done. The only answer that I could think of is that…you love him."

"I did love him. He…" Christine paused, trying to choose her words carefully, "he showed me so much affection at a time when I felt completely alone. I was dealing with losing my father and I needed someone to comfort me. Our passion for music brought us together. Raoul you have to understand, he had no one. When you and I reunited, he felt like he was losing me. He couldn't comprehend that I loved you both. But it's not the same kind of love." Christine turned Raoul's head so that she could look into his eyes. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. That is a decision that I made freely, and it's one I will never regret. Please don't ever doubt that I love you," she said earnestly.

Raoul gave her a relieved smile. He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. When he pulled away, Christine brought her hands to his face and pulled him in for another kiss.

Their lips were still joined when the driver stopped their carriage. Christine stepped out to a round of applause. A large group of people had gathered in front of the Opera Populaire, enthusiastically waiting to welcome their diva back. Christine smiled and waved as Raoul guided her up the steps into the building.

"Welcome back, Vicomtesse de Chagny," Andre said, bowing and placing a kiss on her hand.

"What a beautiful sound. I don't think I shall ever tire of hearing it," Christine said, looking into Raoul's eyes.

Christine searched the faces that filled the room, looking for one person. She let out an excited scream when she saw Meg come running towards her. They gave each other a friendly hug.

"Christine, you're positively glowing!" Meg said, wrapping her arm in Christine's and leading her through the crowd of people.

"I can't tell you how excited I am to be back."

"I want to hear all about the wedding. And don't leave out any details."

"It wasn't anything spectacular, Meg. After…after what happened to Maurice, it didn't feel right to have a big celebration," Christine paused to regain her composure. "It was a simple ceremony, and it couldn't have been more perfect," she said dreamily.

"I'm really happy for you Christine," Meg said, giving her another hug.

"Excuse me, Meg," Christine heard a voice behind her, "But I'd like to dance with my wife."

Christine turned to face Raoul.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, bowing.

"Of course, Monsieur" she replied as she gave him her hand.

He led her to the middle of the floor. The crowd parted to give them enough room to dance. Christine gathered up her dress and Raoul placed his hand on her waist. Raoul nodded to Monsieur Reyer, who struck up the orchestra. When Christine danced with Raoul, the rest of the world faded away and she became lost in his eyes.

Hours passed and Christine could hardly believe it when the music ended and it was time to leave. She felt as though she and Raoul had just arrived. As she moved toward the exit, she endured dozens of pairs of lips on her cheeks. She stepped through the doors into the chilly night. She watched her breath hang on the icy air. Raoul stood behind her, rubbing her arms and shoulders to help keep her warm. When the carriage pulled up in front of the Opera House, he led her down the steps and helped her inside. Christine leaned her head on Raoul's shoulder and rested her hands on her lap. She was soon lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the carriage.

"Darling, wake up," Raoul whispered in her ear, "We're home."

Christine's eyes fluttered open. She still had not quite adjusted to calling Raoul's manor home; it was so different from the Opera dormitories that she was accustomed to. The servant girl met them at the door and took their coats. After she curtsied and left, Raoul and Christine were left alone in the dark hallway. Raoul scooped Christine up in his arms and began to carry her towards their bedroom.

"Raoul, what are you doing?" she giggled.

"Sweeping you off your feet."

Raoul kicked open the door to their bedroom. It was lit by the gentle glow of candlelight. He tenderly kissed Christine's lips and neck as he lowered her down onto the bed.

Christine breathed in deeply, reacting to Raoul's touch. He ran his hands through her hair, breathing in her intoxicating perfume.

"Christine, I love you," he said, entwining their fingers.

"I love you," she whispered.

Raoul and Christine spent the night in each other's arms, expressing the love that had been denied them for months. All the emotions and hopes that they had held on to were released in that night of bliss. There were no more worries or fears, just the promise that they found in each other that night, the promise that they were finally going to have their happily-ever-after.

Nine months later, the first of their four children was born; a little boy that they had both agreed to name "Maurice." Christine sat in the rocking chair in front of the large nursery window, singing her son to sleep. She was hypnotized by the light snow that was falling outside. The soft flakes were gathering on the ground, covering the grass in a blanket of white. Out of the corner of her eye, Christine could have sworn that she saw a something move in the shadows. She felt a light kiss on her cheek and turned her head.

"He's so beautiful," Raoul said, letting the baby wrap his tiny hand around his finger. "Are you alright? You looked startled."

"I thought I saw…never mind," she answered dismissively.

"What is it?"

"I thought I saw a ghost."

**Fin**

A/N: Well, that's it! Good? Bad? Let me know what you thought!


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